


The Worth of a Kiss

by writergirl75



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot Collection, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:23:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 22,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1940955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writergirl75/pseuds/writergirl75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of unrelated one-shots featuring Oliver and Felicity kisses</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Worth of a Kiss

**The Worth of a Kiss ******

********

In the end, really, it was all Thea's fault.

When Oliver had asked his sister about holding the Queen Consolidated Holiday Party at Verdant his sister had easily agreed, with one condition. She wanted to dovetail the event with a fundraiser for a teen center in the Glades.

In Felicity's opinion, Thea's idea for that fundraiser was as diabolical as it was simple.

When they arrived at the club they discovered that Thea had hung what felt like about a thousand sprigs of mistletoe across the ceiling, and any time she caught a couple under it she (and inevitably the crowd around them) demanded a kiss. The gentleman in question then had to donate $20 or the "value of the kiss" to Thea's charity. She called it "Merry Kiss-Mas."

Seriously, no guy could refuse without looking like a major jerk, and none of the donations had been less than fifty bucks. Thea had stopped the pounding holiday music at one point to declare that a man had just donated $500 after kissing his wife - "A hundred dollars for every year of happiness." Felicity had to admit, that one had made her a little misty.

She had done her very best to avoid both the mistletoe and most of the party, thinking how odd it was to see the club filled with office workers instead of socialites. Under normal circumstances, the chance to drink the Queen's expensive champagne and eat the oddly beautiful little food might have been fun. However, after their particularly grueling week in Arrow-land the flashing red and green lights and oddly techno holiday carols were driving her a little crazy.

She saw Oliver, with a fake smile barely hiding his own exhaustion, stuck in a conversation with the head of accounting.

"Excuse me," she said, in her best official assistant voice. "I need to speak with Mr. Queen for a moment."

"Thanks for the save," he said in her ear as she pulled him away. "I stopped listening five minutes ago."

"No problem," she said, speaking loudly to be heard over the music. "Do you think anyone would notice if we just snuck out of this thing?"

He gave her a flat smile. "Not feeling the holiday spirit? he asked.

"I'm just so tired," she said, unable to even pretend to smile. She usually did her best to hide her fatigue from Oliver and Digg. What they did was difficult. There was no point in whining about it.

A concerned look flashed across his face briefly. "Of course. Why don't you head home?" Then he paused, his frown deepening. "Wait, how are you getting home?"

"Cab," she said quickly. Until that moment she'd forgotten they'd come straight from the office with Digg. However, there were usually cabs around Verdant, so she wasn't too worried.

He nodded. "I'll walk you out."

"You don't…" she protested.

He ignored her, grabbing her elbow and steering her toward the door. She was a little distracted by the feel of his fingers on her skin, and the way he pressed close to her as they made their way through the crowd.

Then, five feet from the door Thea pounced on them. "Merry Kiss-Mas!" she declared, pointing to the ceiling.

Felicity felt Oliver go completely still as she looked up. She was positive Thea had moved this particular bit of annoying foliage at some point during the evening, because Felicity hadn't remembered there being one right in front of the door. She also couldn't believe that Mister-Razor-Sharp-Instincts-Queen would have missed it so easily either.

"Thea," Oliver said, putting on his stern face. "I'm her boss, so I'm not sure it's appropriate to…"

"Oh hell, Ollie." Thea said, her face irritated. "Just kiss the girl and donate some money. It's not that complicated."

Several people around them were looking their way, and one brave, and mostly likely inebriated person said. "Come on, Mr. Queen." Felicity wondered if that guy would have a job on Monday.

Felicity looked at Oliver. He clenched his teeth and shook his head as if in disbelief. Then he said, "Fine." It sounded like the word had been ground out of him.

Before Felicity could decide how she felt about his attitude, he turned around to face her, his hand curling around her bare upper arm. In a voice so quiet she figured only she could hear he said. "Is this…?"

Feeling a bit deer-in-headlights, Felicity managed to nod, and his lips came down on hers. It was brief, only the barest moment of pressure, but she felt a jolt of heat shoot through her. She was acutely aware of the way his fingers tightened gently on her arm, his thumb brushing across her skin even as he pulled back and looked at his sister.

"Happy?" he asked Thea with a pasted-on smile.

Thea grinned and nodded, pulling a pad of paper and a pen out of the pocket of her spangled red skinny jeans. "And how much will you be donating, Mr. Queen?"

"Five thousand dollars," he said his voice carefully nonchalant.

Thea laughed as Felicity gasped. Looking back down at Felicity, Oliver winked. "It's for a good cause," he said, loudly enough for everyone to hear. The crowd around them let out an appreciative cheer.

Then he turned back to Thea. "Can I finish walking her out now?"

"Be my guest," Thea said, still sounding amused.

As Felicity and Oliver made their way out of the noisy club and on to the cold and quiet street, the silence that fell was an uneasy one. Oliver's smile had disappeared and as he raised his arm to hail an empty cab Felicity tried to find something to say. Of course with her that inevitably led to having too much to say. "You don't have to worry about this, Oliver. I know that was just for your sister's benefit and I know that you have lots of money so it doesn't really mean that much, though I'm not saying five-thousand dollars isn't…"

"Felicity," Oliver said sounding slightly strangled. She stopped talking. He opened the door of the cab, and she climbed inside, feeling more awkward than ever.

However, when she looked up to tell him good night, she saw that he had leaned over the open door and was looking down at her. His eyebrows were lowered and he looked upset, but his voice was soft. "I hope you know you're worth a lot more than that to me." Before she could respond he stepped back and closed the door.

In a daze Felicity gave her address to the cab driver, feeling the warmth of the kiss, and his words, all the way home.


	2. Last Wish?

She had put herself between a bullet and a ten-year-old kid. It should have been some comfort to him that it wasn't some "mission" of his, just a wrong-place-at-the-wrong-time scenario with two spree shooting gunmen. However, as he scooped her into his arms and saw the blood spreading across her flower print blouse it was no comfort at all. He'd made it inside before the police had even arrived, had taken out both shooters without killing them. They'd gotten off only a single shot – but sometimes one shot was all it took.

"Am I going to die?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"No, this is nothing," he said. He tried his best to make his voice sound confident and reassuring, in spite of the hurricane going on inside him.

A look of fear flashed through her eyes. "You still suck at lying."

"Digg's called for help," he said. "You're going to be okay."

He pushed through a door into the cold night air and laid her gently on the ground. He looked around desperately for something – anything to stop the bleeding, before pulling off his hood, and then his own shirt, wadding it up and pressing it against the wound on her side.

She smiled weakly. "Masked…shirtless. I don't mind this being the last thing I see."

He let out a strangled chuckle. Leave it to Felicity to make him smile even when she was bleeding all over. "Hey," he said firmly. "You're going to be fine."

She let out a shuddering breath. "Just in case…would you do something for me?"

"Anything," he said, putting his other hand to her face. Damned gloves.

"Kiss me?" she whispered. "I know you don't feel …"

He leaned down and put his mouth to hers, cutting off her words, relieved to feel her warm lips and breath against his skin. Whatever lines he'd drawn, if there was any chance at all this was…he cut the thought off, pulling back to look into her eyes

"If I'd known getting shot was what it took…" she said, smiling softly. Then her eyes closed.

"Felicity!" he said, and this time he was unable to hide his panic. His face was still only a breath from hers as her eyes fluttered open. He did his best to smile. "If you want another one of those you're going to have to live."

"Deal," she said, but her eyes drifted shut.

To his utter relief he heard sirens behind him. And in spite of the risk of getting caught he stayed until the paramedics were there, lifting her onto a stretcher.

Two days later, when she woke up in the hospital, Oliver kept up his end of the bargain.


	3. Locked in a Trunk

**A/N: This piece is straying into a lighter, slightly less canon-oriented territory than the other two pieces, but hopefully still in character. Oh, and I wrote it carefully enough that it's still pretty safe, but it gets closer to Teen rated than the other two kiss-fics have.**

When Vladimir Stolov pointed a gun at them and ordered them into the trunk of the black sedan, Felicity looked at Oliver to see what he was going to do.

He caught her eye and gave her an almost imperceptible shake of the head. He wasn't going to do anything? Seriously?

"It's just for a few hours," the mobster said with a grin. "Until my employer gets here. Then you will have a talk, captain to captain."

Oliver's eyes narrowed, but otherwise his face was its usual unreadable mask. "I doubt we need my secretary for that," he said, tipping his head toward Felicity. "Why don't we let her get back to work?"

Even though she knew it was just a tactic to make her seem less important, she bristled at his use of the word "secretary." Just wait until he spent a day with his office computer spontaneously rebooting every ten minutes.

The mobster gave another cold smile. "Oh, but my employer so likes pretty girls."

Felicity felt afraid for the first time and, as if reading her mind, Oliver took a single step closer to her.

"Now in," Stolov said. He pointed the gun more directly at Oliver. "You first."

She heard Oliver sigh and then he turned, wedging his long form into the opening. Felicity wondered how exactly they both were going to fit into such a small space.

"Would you like some help, my dear?" Stolov said, when she hesitated.

"No thank you," she said, voice a bit high-pitched. Wishing she was in a different dress, she started to climb into the trunk, and then yelped when Stolov shoved her from behind.

She crashed down into Oliver, her hand smacking him hard in the face. She was aware of Stolov touching her bare legs to shove them inside. The trunk lid descended leaving them in darkness.

"Oliver!" she exclaimed.

"Shh," he hissed.

There was a playful little tap on the metal above them and then the sound of retreating footsteps

Felicity realized that the trunk was small enough they weren't even quite lying side by side. She was partly on top of him, her back just an inch or two from the outside curve of the trunk.

Her head was pressed against his shirt front, though she couldn't quite tell where, and her legs, thanks to Stolov were tangled together and an awkward angle. And…she knew this should be the furthest thing from her mind, but he smelled really amazing.

"You okay?" he said, his voice just above a whisper.

"Uh, mostly," she said. "I just hit you in the face, didn't I?"

"Yeah," he said, sounding odd.

"Well, that's what you get for calling me your secretary," she replied. When he didn't respond she felt a tiny bit guilty. "Are you okay? I mean, I know you're alive and everything, but I didn't break your nose or something did I? Because I'm not sure I could forgive…"

"Felicity," he said, his voice holding a slight edge.

"Right, sorry," she said. "But seriously, are you…"

"I'm fine," he said, though his breathing sounded slightly off. "I just really need to move my right hand."

Suddenly realizing what he was talking about, she let out a small yelp as he moved the hand in question to a safer spot. How had she not noticed that?

He let out a long, noisy sigh that ruffled her hair and slid across her ear.

She swallowed hard. "Now what? I'm assuming you have a plan or you would have taken that guy out, gun or no."

"I do have a plan," he said. "But we need to sit tight for a minute to make sure he's gone."

Out of habit she tried to raise her head to look up at him. She felt the drag of her lipstick against his shirt and her head finally came to rest, pressed against his neck. "You are going to have lipstick all over you…" she cut off the sentence. "Well not all over you; just on your shirt and your neck now, and…"

"Felicity," he said, and there was an odd tone in his voice, not quite scary, but a little dark nonetheless. "Would you please be quiet?" there was just a hint of pleading in the request.

"Yeah, sure," she said. She shifted, but every movement seemed to bring her in closer proximity to him, her knee brushing his leg, her hair catching on the stubble on his chin. It made her acutely aware of all of those feelings she'd been doing her best to tamp down.

"Okay, um," he said sounding as unsettled as she felt. Was that possible?

"Yeah?" she prompted.

"I can get us out of here, but I need to be able to reach the back panel," he said.

"You want me to move?" she said, incredulously. She squirmed a bit trying to see if it was even possible to turn over. Again, every movement brought them in closer contact.

His hand came to her waist and squeezed tightly. "Could you hold still?" he said sharply.

"I was just trying to make it so you could reach," she said, indignant.

"Just move back as far as you can," he said. Each of his words came out hard and distinct. Was he mad?

She pressed herself as far to the side as she could. Her head cleared slightly with the tiny bit of space.

"Good," he said. That space disappeared as he moved toward her, his arms snaking around her waist to reach toward the back of the trunk. "Now, if I can just find the right spot."

She couldn't help but let out a small snort of laughter.

"What?" he snapped.

"Nothing," she said quickly.

His hand grazed her hip as he searched for whatever it was he was looking for. She could tell he was feeling along the panel of the trunk, presumably looking for some latch or weak point. Then his thumb slid across the skin left bare by the diamond-shaped cut out on the back of her dress. Reacting involuntarily she gasped and arched slightly in surprise.

"To hell with it," he muttered.

His arm closed around her and his head moved suddenly, his mouth crashing down on hers. For about a second she went rigid with shock, but then she molded against him, tilting her head to give him better access. The kiss was full of demand and heat, and even though she had dreamed about this a thousand times, the reality still topped the fantasy.

With a growl of frustration he yanked his head back. To her surprise his breathing was as heavy as hers. "We are not doing this here," he said firmly.

"Ok," she whispered, unable to form a full sentence.

"Tuck your head under my chin, and promise not to move," he ordered.

It wasn't a difficult order to follow. She buried her face against his shirt and enjoyed the feeling of his hands moving along her back. Finally there was a popping noise, and light and air streamed in. They managed to climb out of the trunk and when Felicity looked up at Oliver she couldn't help but grin.

"What?" he said, his eyebrows lowering.

"Bright pink," she said, reaching up to trail her fingers over the remains of her lipstick on his lips and down his shirt front. "All over."

All vestiges of his usual gloomy expression melted away and he smiled and winked at her. The sight of it was almost as powerful as the kiss had been. "I think I'll have to get used to it," he said.

Felicity Smoak never in her life imagined that a girl could be thankful she'd gotten locked in a mobster's trunk.


	4. She Was Everywhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written a while back - so it's a bit out of date in some ways, but I still like the sentiment of it.

**A/N: I wanted to do something that was "Oliver kisses Felicity on a normal day." When I started writing it, I didn't intend for anyone else to read it, so it's more a mood piece than an actual story, but here it is anyway. Oh, and don't worry, the reverse scenario "Felicity kisses Oliver on a normal day" is up next. ******

She was everywhere that day.

She was there in the take-out omelet still warm on his desk when he arrived in the morning. They'd had a terrible, vicious, night hunting down a kidnapper and the fact that she'd thought of him on three hours sleep was so generous he almost couldn't get the words of thanks out of his mouth.

She was there in the pink highlighter smiley face on his board meeting notes. Her way of letting him know she approved of his decision not to outsource the Queen Consolidated janitorial staff.

She was there in the fact that his exhausting 1:00 meeting with Finance had miraculously been rescheduled for another afternoon, allowing him to go to lunch with his mother and Thea, a commitment he'd forgotten.

She was beside him in the car as they drove to yet another meeting; there to soothe tired tempers when he and Digg would have snapped at each other.

In every minute of his day she was there, with the right folder, a quick reminder, a bit of feisty babble to make him smile when the weight of his double lives would have crushed him.

And it wasn't just during the day either. She was there giving him an excuse (not a good one, granted, neither of them had quite figured out that skill) to get out of his 7:00 pm conference call, allowing him to respond to a message from Officer Lance that the kidnapper's accomplice had been located.

She was there in the well-lit, well-ordered lines of the Foundry, in the always replenished arrows. He sharpened them yes, but he didn't even know where they came from anymore. She just took care of it.

She was there in the bow he shot; the weapon she had helped create was like his third arm.

She was there in the mask he wore. Made by another, but when he put it on all he saw was the way she had gazed at him and her voice telling him he looked "like a hero."

And as he made his way into the night, he also heard her voice; her steady presence in his ear telling him where to go, how to help, how to survive.

On that night, like a hundred before it, she was there to smile at him when he returned. There to give him someone to come back to.

She was there with a gentle touch to patch up the worst of his wounds.

He never quite knew why it was that day and that touch that changed him. But as her fingers coasted over his damaged skin he knew that he needed her there in yet another way. He wanted her in his arms, and under his hands, and in every breath that passed between them as he finally kissed her.


	5. Enough is Enough

Pull ups, again? Was he trying to kill her?

When she'd put that ludicrous piece of exercise equipment in front of her monitors Oliver had been very far away. It had been her little hopeful mental treat. Now that he was back, she'd almost come to regret it. He seemed to be spending more time at the actual Foundry lately, and he'd been especially touchy-feely. Nothing overt of course, because, you know, that would be going somewhere. Just lots of touches on the arm, shoulder, and back; lingering just a second past the point of casual and friendly.

Now the pull-ups. How was she supposed to concentrate on high-level hacking when his ridiculous shirtless torso was right in front of her nose?

Finally he let himself drop to the ground, and she forced herself to stare at the monitors as he walked toward her. She had to retype the same command three times, something she hoped he didn't notice. Blessedly she saw him grab his t-shirt from the edge of the table and slide it over his head.

Then he came to stand next to her – right next to her. So close that she could feel the heat of his body on her arm.

"How's the decryption coming?" he asked.

"Fine," she said. Her voice sounded irritated, even to herself.

"Everything alright?" he asked, obviously picking up the tone.

"Of course, sure," she said.

His eyebrows lowered and his hand came to settle on her shoulder. "You seem a little on edge. Maybe you should call it a night." Did he know his thumb had gone past the collar of her blouse to land on her skin?

She took a deep breath, and muttered, "The decryption is not my problem."

The thumb moved now, stroking gently over her collarbone. That was not a "just friends" gesture. His voice was low and quiet, "Are you okay?"

Something inside of her just snapped. She slapped her hands on the table and pushed back out of her chair. "You have got to be kidding me."

He looked stunned and turned, backing toward the other table. "Felicity?"

She stepped toward him. "You can't just keep acting like this and not do anything about it!"

Hurt flashed through his eyes and she felt a little pang of guilt at her lack of control. "Like what?"

"Oliver you touch me all the time, you stare at me, and you dangle yourself in front of my face like man candy. Then you act like there's nothing going on between us. There is only so much that I can take," she said, glaring at him.

He sighed and took another step back from her. "I told you. I can't…"

"No," she said firmly, she would not sit through another of his bizarrely hopeful and yet heartbreaking statements. "You listen this time. I get the whole angsty hero thing. The 'it's so complicated, I'm so damaged' thing - really, I do. But for once I need you to just be honest with me. Do you have feelings for me at all?"

His eyes went wide, and now he looked almost scared. "Felicity, you know I care about you."

She narrowed her eyes. "Fine, great. That's not vague, at all," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

He folded his arms across his chest and glowered. How could anyone be that sexy while glaring? His voice was flat and hard as he said, "What exactly do you want from me?"

"Let's make this simple," she snapped. "Do you, Oliver Queen, have any interest in kissing me?"

The room went dead silent; he stared at her, and then glanced down at her lips. Finally he looked at his feet and said, "No."

Instead of being disappointed she felt a thrill of triumph. It was the least convincing thing he'd ever said to her, and she had a roster of ridiculous Oliver statements to compare it to. Smiling she said, "Liar."

Before he could respond, she surged forward. Going up on her toes, she pushed him against the table and laid a kiss on him. At first he was still as a statue under her lips and hands, and she worried that she'd made a mistake. Then in an instant, his right arm reached out and pinned her against him; his left hand plunging into her hair. It took only about two seconds for her to forget where she was and that she had ever been annoyed with him. For a long moment she just got lost in the feel of his shoulders under her hands, and his lips moving across hers.

Then there was the sound of a throat being cleared – very loudly- behind them. Crap. Digg, of course.

Digg's voice sounded uneasy. "Are you two sure this is…"

Unwilling to lose her momentum she pulled back only inches from Oliver and without turning said. "Go home, John."

Oliver's eyes were locked on hers, and to her delighted surprise he actually looked slightly flushed and a little amused. Not looking away from her he said. "Good night, Digg."

The last thing Felicity heard before she again got lost in Oliver Queen was John Diggle's annoyed sigh and the door shutting behind him.


	6. The Kiss Goodbye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is slightly evil, though our Oliver is so danged stubborn that realistically I could see it taking Felicity totally walking away to shake him out of his nonsense.

She'd made her choice. It was a good choice; the right one for her. If he couldn't give her what she needed than she deserved to have it with someone else. He'd tried to tell her it didn't mean leaving their work behind but she'd given him a look.

"Would you let your fiancé spend her nights with a mysterious stranger?" she asked.

Of course he wouldn't. If she were his, he wouldn't want her out of his sight.

It was a sign of how much he wanted her to stay, under any terms, that he'd actually offered to let her tell her new guy – he refused to even think the man's name - the truth about what they did, about who Oliver Queen really was.

She'd swallowed and shook her head. "He already has a problem with how close we are. It's not a good idea."

And so he was watching her walk away. Leaning against the counter, staring as she shut off the computers that he'd come to think of as hers. He hadn't changed when he'd come in, feeling like he needed the strength of the green and the weapons to get through this last moment.

When she turned the sadness in her face hit him hard. Their eyes locked and silence fell. She was waiting for him to say something, and he clenched his teeth. He had to let her do this. If she could be happy somewhere else, she deserved that chance.

Finally she looked away, swallowing audibly. "I guess that's it."

He nodded, and cleared his throat. "Thank you, for everything. I never would have gotten this far without you." A tear trailed down her smooth cheek and he folded his arms across his chest to keep from touching her.

"Don't be sweet," she said, with an edge in her voice. "Not now. I can't handle it."

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them he forced his voice to sound even. "If you ever need us, Felicity, don't hesitate for even a second."

She leaned up, obviously intending to kiss him on the cheek, as she'd done to Digg a half dozen times, but never to him. Without conscious thought he shifted the few inches it took so their lips met.

She started slightly, but then finished the kiss. It was so sweet, and he felt an almost physical pain pierce him as she pulled away.

"Goodbye, Oliver," she whispered, and before he could collect himself enough to respond she'd walked out of his life. As the door slammed shut, a fear welled up in him like nothing he'd felt since returning from the island.

She was the one who had made him feel like a hero – and now she was gone.

 

It took him three weeks to go after her, and cost him his first broken nose after a lucky shot by the soon to be ex-fiancé, but it was worth it.


	7. Kissing the Arrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my brain is weird, I originally wrote this as a much more boring version of "Oliver and Felicity kiss in the middle of a fight" but then I saw a picture online (a while ago now) of the Arrow on the bike as an episode spoiler and the caption teased that the picture wasn't as innocuous as it seemed.

It had been one of the strangest days of Felicity Smoak's life, and given the year she'd had that was saying something. When she'd started the day she'd been wearing a bright blue dress and heels, and now that day, and maybe her life, was about to end with her dressed in green leather and a motorcycle helmet…

**Six Hours Earlier ******

They didn't even know he was in trouble until Officer Lance called Felicity. Digg had taken the afternoon off to go to his nephew's basketball game and Felicity was holding down the fort at QC. Oliver was supposed to be at a business lunch with some investor. Instead he was getting himself kidnapped.

That was bad enough. However, the news Lance gave her was worse. "This guy who's got Queen is insisting that he'll only speak with the vigilante. So unless we want the kid back in pieces, which to me isn't the worst thing, we'll need our mutual friend to show up at the old Wellman's Factory at 8 pm tonight."

Out of pure shock she'd almost given the secret away right then. Luckily she managed to hang up the phone before she babbled out just how impossible it was for the Arrow to bargain for Oliver Queen's life.

In the hours between Lance's call and the 8 o'clock deadline, she and Digg had poured over all of the information Felicity could find on the Wellman's Factory. She'd been able to hack the factory's newly resuscitated surveillance system and determine how many men they were facing. Still, they had come to one tough conclusion. Digg could probably get in and rescue Oliver, but not if he also had to pretend to be the Arrow at the same time.

"Then I'll do it," she said, before she'd even realized what she was suggesting.

Digg gave her a hard look. "You're about fifty pounds of muscle shy and the wrong gender."

"It's the suit people recognize," she said. "Not the person in it."

"No way. Mask or no, they take one look at your face and they'll know something's up," Digg said.

"Then we don't show them my face," she said. She stood up and moved toward the display case where Oliver's suit hung. Was she really thinking about this? "I take the bike and keep the helmet on until you've taken them out."

"You can drive a motorcycle?" Digg said, his eyebrows rising in disbelief.

"Sure," she said, trying to keep the nervousness out of her face. She'd spent a summer on a moped, and while she knew it wasn't the same thing, she wasn't about to tell that to Digg.

Digg shook his head. "No way. It's too dangerous. Even if we live, Oliver would kill me for letting you do it."

That comment struck her as interesting, but she didn't have time to think about what it might mean. "Oliver might get killed if we don't. Besides, if they're looking to negotiate with the Queens they aren't likely to shoot the messenger are they?"

When she'd said that to Digg she'd been pretty confident she was right. However as she walked into the Wellman's Factory and two henchman trained their guns on her, she suddenly wasn't so sure.

The man that strode forward was well dressed, thin, and dark haired. He didn't look like the average kidnapper, not that she knew what the average kidnapper looked like. And he didn't hold her attention very long, because there, shackled to the wall, was Oliver. He looked a bit dazed, and there was a dark red stain across the front of his white shirt.

As she walked closer to the kidnapper, and to Oliver, her friend looked up, and she saw a look of utter confusion cross his face. Felicity had worn a large pair of sweats underneath the green leather, hoping it would give her a more convincing profile, but based on height alone Oliver had to know it wasn't Digg under that helmet.

She'd been careful to turn on the voice manipulator before she'd left the Foundry, and had hacked it so she could turn up the volume. That meant she could keep the helmet in place and still talk to the kidnapper as long as she kept her own voice pitched low and raspy. She tried to focus on the kidnapper and not on Oliver. "Officer Lance told me you insisted on having me make the arrangements for Queen's release."

"Yes, I did," the man said smoothly. "I thought it had a nice poetic justice. Starling City's hero coming out to save one of Starling City's worst bad boys."

"What do you want?" she said.

The kidnapper sauntered another step toward her and she fought the urge to step back. Oliver would never step back. "I need twenty million dollars transferred to an offshore account and the Queen's private jet."

"Can't you buy your own jet if you have twenty million dollars?" she said. Too late she realized that the comment was something she would say, not something Oliver would say. The kidnapper didn't seem to notice, but Oliver certainly did. His head jerked up and he looked at her with a startling mix of anger and fear. His arms yanked out in what seemed like an involuntary reaction, snapping back as they reached the end of the shackles. She had to look away from him.

"I need a ride out of town," the kidnapper said.

She took a deep breath. "Fine," she said. It was disconcerting to not recognize her own voice. "I'll relay your message to the Queen family." She hoped that it wouldn't be necessary. If they'd timed it right Digg would be here any second.

"Oh," the kidnapper said, grinning. "There's one more thing. I want to know who's behind the hood."

Felicity felt a stab of panic, but was saved from having to reply by two precise gun shots delivered courtesy of John Diggle. The two armed guards were down. Oliver took advantage of the distraction to reach out and kick the legs out from underneath the boss, who fell and hit his head on the concrete floor with a sickening thud.

"There are three more guards upstairs," Oliver said, his voice strained.

Digg nodded and took off.

Felicity yanked the helmet off her head and moved toward Oliver.

"The keys are on his belt," he ground out, nodding his head toward one of the guards.

With shaking fingers Felicity pulled off the too-big black gloves and grabbed the keys. She tried not to think too much about the fact that the man with the keys didn't seem to be breathing.

She stepped close to Oliver, "Are you alright?"

"Just get me out of these," he said.

She undid the lock on the shackles and gasped as Oliver grabbed her shoulders. "What the hell were you thinking?!"

She felt a flash of irritation. "I was thinking I would save your life."

"So you just put on my suit?" he growled. She wondered how he had enough energy to yell at her.

"Digg's done it," she shot back.

"Not without my permission," he said, wincing.

She helped him to his feet. "Sorry to invade your turf," she snapped.

To her surprise he turned and his hand came up to her face. "You think that's why I'm mad?" he said, sounding like it was the craziest thing he'd ever heard.

"You have another reason?" she said,

His voice was still hard, but there was something in his eyes that made her freeze as he said. "You could have been killed."

She swallowed. "I had to save you."

He clenched his jaw and rolled his eyes, "You are the single most aggravating…" But the rest of the sentence was lost as he grabbed her head and pulled her forward until his mouth was on hers. It wasn't a long kiss, but what it lacked in duration it made up for in intensity. His lips were forceful as they worked over hers, and when he pulled back she was gasping.

Looking up she saw an odd grin on his face. "What?" she asked, feeling slightly overwhelmed.

He let out a long sigh and threw an arm over her shoulder. As she helped him limp toward the exit he said, "Never thought I'd be kissing the Arrow."

She couldn't help but laugh a little. "Oh, well, I plan to do a lot of it. Kissing I mean, not dressing up in this thing."

"Good to know," Oliver said. "On both counts." And when she looked over at him, he was actually smiling.


	8. Some Idiot Broke Her Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I wrote these a while back - but given the Season Three spoilers I think there's still some fun to be had in this scenario.

"I'm sorry, Felicity, I really do like you. But I just don't think this is working out for me."

The words carried through Oliver's open office door, and he felt the urge – not for the first time – to strangle this guy. What kind of jerk broke up with a girl at her work? He couldn't see her face, but he could guess at the expression it would have, the same one she'd had on her face when they talked about why he'd slept with Isabel. That took some of the heat out of his anger and he sighed.

He watched her sink down into her office chair, her back still toward him. She was so still, with only the occasional movement of her hand toward her face. He realized she was probably wiping away tears, and he was on his feet before he could even think about what he was doing.

She didn't look up as he stepped out the door. "Let's go to lunch," he said, trying to sound casual.

Only the tiniest redness around her eyes betrayed her emotions as she looked at him. "Why? Because you feel sorry for me?" There was more than a little anger in those words.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and walked toward her. "Because you're my friend and you're upset."

She didn't answer him for a moment. He felt something inside him twist painfully at the sight of another tear escaping. "Felicity," he said softly, "if you don't want to go with me that's fine, but get out of here for a while. Take a break."

"No," she said firmly. "Lunch is fine." It sounded like she was agreeing to go into battle.

Oliver made a quick call to Digg, and they stepped into the back of a car five minutes later. The drive to the restaurant he'd picked was short, and she was silent the entire time. Definitely a tip off that something was wrong, he thought.

Digg opened the door for them and as Oliver went to follow her toward the restaurant, Digg stopped him. "Is she okay?" Digg asked.

"He dumped her," Oliver said. "Right in the office, right in front of me."

Digg glared. "You want me to break his legs?"

Oliver couldn't help but grin. "Don't tempt me."

He followed Felicity into the restaurant. He'd chosen it because it was quiet and he knew his name would guarantee them a table even during the lunch hour. As they walked toward their table, Felicity looked around at the opulent décor and said, "You'd better be buying."

He gave her a half smile as he pulled out her chair. "I think I can handle it."

After the waiter took their order a heavy silence fell. Taking a deep breath he said, "You okay?"

She shrugged and swallowed hard. "As you know I've heard a version of the 'it's not you, it's me' speech twice in recent history, so not exactly." Her voice held a trace of anger, and he realized that she was talking not just about the jerk today, but about him as well.

That he was being grouped with that idiot rankled. "Hey, Felicity, I…"

"It doesn't matter," she said, shaking her head and attempting to smile. When she continued her voice was strained. "It all boils down to the same thing. Always the friend – never the girlfriend. I should just know better than to think anyone…" she cut the words off. "Never mind. Let's talk about something else."

As relieved as he was to change the subject her unfinished sentence dug into his brain.

By the time they'd eaten their lunch, the fantastic food and a lighthearted argument about whether or not they needed to upgrade the hard drives of the computers at the Foundry seemed to have brightened her mood. Still, he couldn't get the half-said comment out of his head, and he realized suddenly what she'd meant. Did she really think she wasn't lovable? Though he wasn't quite sure why, exactly, the thought was like being kicked in the ribs.

He was only half paying attention as they made their way back to the office. Then as the executive elevator climbed to the top of Queen Consolidated he reached out and hit the stop button.

"What are you doing?" she said.

He wasn't really sure. But he turned so she was between him and the back wall of the elevator. "We need to clear something up."

"What?" she said, looking nervous.

He reached down and took her hand in his, and he watched her swallow hard. "You are lovely, and warm, and a genius, and just because I am too screwed up to do anything about it doesn't make you any less amazing."

She gave him a tiny smile, and pulled her hand from his. "Oliver, that's nice of you to say, but you don't have to…"

"I'm not being nice," he said firmly, stung by her lack of belief. She had to understand this. With that thought shouting in his brain he leaned down and kissed her. It wasn't a friendly kiss either, but a kiss that had him locking his arms around her waist, pressing her back against the wall of the elevator, determined to show her just how much she mattered. And though he'd started it as a way to prove his point, it evolved into something else very quickly. She fit perfectly against him, her arms coming to wrap around his neck. After a long moment of enjoying the way her fingers threaded into his hair it took every ounce of willpower he had to pull back.

Enjoying the flushed look on her face he said, "Have I made myself clear?"

She nodded quickly.

"Good," he said. He slowly stepped away from her and carefully wiped the lipstick from his face. Straightening his jacket he hit the button to send the elevator into motion again.

"Are you ever going to do that again?" she asked, her voice unsteady.

He knew he should say no, but with the taste and feel of her still surrounding him, he couldn't manage it. As the elevator doors slid open he finally said, "I don't know."


	9. His Girl Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oliver and Felicity on something approaching a normal date, written during Season Two.

"Maybe…maybe I was wrong."

Felicity had just been sliding her arms into her coat. It had been a very long night, and as she turned to look at Oliver, she saw that he had changed into regular clothes. She also could see the livid, newly stitched cut across his cheekbone, a testament to just how close he'd come, yet again, to losing his life in the streets of Starling City. Because the cut drew her eyes it took her a minute to realize just how he was looking at her, his blue eyes anxious but intense.

"Wrong about what?" she said, taking a step toward him.

He tilted his head and she saw him swallow hard, then he walked toward her. "With all the stuff that's happened in the last few weeks, I'm starting to think I had things backward."

She still wasn't quite sure what he was talking about, but she could tell this wasn't a casual conversation. "What do you mean?" she asked trying to keep her voice even. He was standing really close.

He took a sharp breath and reached out toward her. His touch was careful, gentle, as he took her hand in his, and Felicity gasped at the unexpected sweetness coming from him. She almost couldn't bear to look up at him, afraid she could be reading too much into the simple contact, but finally she raised her eyes.

There was a warmth in his gaze that she'd never seen, and she felt her breath stop. "Maybe all the uncertainty of the life that I lead," he paused, "the life that we lead means that I shouldn't put things that matter on hold."

"Like what?" she asked, her voice a little shaky.

He gave her a small smile. "Like spending time with a woman I care about."

"Me?" she said. She had to be sure. As a "psycho ex-girlfriend" of his had once pointed out there were a lot of women in orbit around Oliver Queen.

He let out a short laugh, "Yes, you." His eyebrows lowered, "I don't like being without you."

Her voice came out uneven. "That's good to know."

"I'm just not sure what comes next," he said, and the uncertainty on his face was so endearing she nearly kissed him. Before she could reply he looked around at the Foundry and said, "This seems like the only place where we get to be us, and it doesn't seem like the best spot for a date."

Felicity swallowed hard at the use of the word "date." "I think…" she stopped and swallowed again, "I think that the place doesn't really matter."

He nodded and she saw something mischievous flash through his eyes. "You're right," he said. "So Friday night, 7:00? Just us, no work."

She nodded, not quite trusting herself to talk.

"Good," he said, obvious relief in his voice. Then he gestured toward the door, "Come on. I'll walk you to your car."

He held her hand all the way out, telling her about something slightly crazy that Thea had done that day. It felt easier than she had expected to just relax and enjoy his company.

When they reached her car he waited until she unlocked the door; then leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her cheek. "Goodnight," he said his voice low.

"Goodnight," she whispered. He paused just a moment, his breath still on her skin before pulling back. Giving her a grin that she had never seen before, he turned toward his bike

The next two days were an interesting experience. On the surface it seemed like little had changed. They worked side by side in the office and in the Foundry, caught up in minor crises on both the Arrow and the QC front. However, there were little moments that spoke to a shift in their relationship, like when he put both hands on her shoulders to look at something on her monitor, and his hand covering hers for the briefest minute when she brought a folder into his office. Every time it happened she nearly forgot to breathe, and she wondered how she'd survive an entire date without having a heart attack.

At exactly 5:05 on Friday, and in spite of the fact that he still had the HR Director in his office, Oliver stuck his head out his door and said. "Miss Smoak, didn't you say you had plans for this evening? I'm sure whatever you're working on can wait until Monday." His voice was totally deadpan, but she could tell he was barely suppressing a grin.

"Thank you, Mr. Queen," she said, trying to match his even tone.

The grin broke through for the briefest second before he turned back into his office. "Have a good weekend."

Two hours later she walked down the steps of the Foundry, nerves kicking up a swarm of iron-clad butterflies in her stomach. She hoped she'd worn the right thing – opting for feminine and relaxed in her rose print dress and pink cardigan. After all, there weren't really clear guidelines on what to wear on a date with your boss-best friend in a secret superhero hideout.

She didn't immediately see Oliver, but by the time she reached the bottom of the stairs he appeared through an opening in the north wall. "Hey," he said, holding up a hand. "I just need one more minute." Then he disappeared again.

She stood in the middle of the room, resisting the urge to check her monitors, just to have something to do with herself. What was he doing back there? When he reappeared a moment later there was a big smile on his face. He came directly toward her, reaching out his hand for hers.

"Sorry about that," he said as their fingers entwined. She watched his eyes sweep over her. His voice was soft as he said, "You look beautiful."

She heard her breath go fluttery. "So do you…I mean…you're gorgeous." She mentally kicked herself. He was amazing in jeans and a blue button down shirt. She took a deep breath, "I mean you look great."

His smile got wider, and he tilted his head toward the spot he'd disappeared to earlier. "Come see."

When they stepped through the small open doorway into the room beyond Felicity let out a gasp. What had once been a bleak empty room full of random pieces of machinery had been turned into a cozy looking, loft-like living room, complete with rugs, furniture, and what was possibly the largest flat screen TV she'd ever seen. The coffee table in front of the huge black leather couch was set with candles, wine glasses and silverware, with boxes of takeout from her favorite Mexican restaurant in the center.

"When did you do this?" she said, totally stunned.

He let go of her hand and walked to where a bottle of wine sat waiting at the edge of the table. "You know that emergency investor's meeting?" he said. She nodded, and he shrugged. "I made it up."

She laughed. "You lied to me…convincingly."

He grinned. "Who knew, right?" Then his face grew a bit more serious. "And I had help."

Felicity realized who that help had to be. "Digg," she said. "Did he know why?"

Oliver nodded slowly, working the cork free of the bottle. He had a rueful smile on his face and his voice was a bit strained. "We had a conversation."

"And?" she prompted, as he moved to pour the wine into the glasses.

She couldn't see Oliver's face as he said. "He made it clear he might stop by at any time tonight. You know, just to check in."

The real meaning of that made her cheeks warm, but she tried to sound calm as she said, "Did you remind him we're adults?"

"I did," Oliver said, turning to face her. His teeth were clenched and the expression on his face was a mixture of exasperation and amusement. "It did not help."

He handed her a glass of wine. "Apparently, you shouldn't underestimate your ability to elicit strong emotions from the men in your life."

She took the glass and their eyes met. The steadiness of his gaze told her that he wasn't just talking about Digg.

He cleared his throat and grabbed his own glass. "So – dinner and a movie, not exactly original, but I thought it might be nice to feel normal."

Felicity let out a little laugh. "You created an entire room, and…" She paused, taking a sip of the wine for confirmation, "Brought a bottle of wine worth more than I make in a week. I don't think you have to worry about originality."

"Good," he said, and she could tell that he'd actually been worried. She stepped toward him and put her hand on his arm. He looked down at her, "Hungry?"

She was starving actually. They sat down side by side and dug into the food, and it was a good hour later that she realized that somewhere along the w ay she'd stopped being nervous. After all, this wasn't a blind date – this was her friend. And it was so rare that they could just talk to each other, that it felt like a treat to have a conversation that didn't revolve around drug lords or marketing plans. She had never seen him smile this much before, and every time it happened, she felt a hum of contentment.

After they split a ridiculously delicious apple empanada, Oliver said, "So, movie?"

"Sure," she said. "What did you get?"

He grinned wickedly, and didn't answer her, just turning the TV on and settling back against the couch. She was surprised to see the black and white credits start up. Well, it had Cary Grant, that was promising. Then the title came up.

His Girl Friday.

She rolled her eyes and turned to him, her smile barely suppressed as she tried to glare. "Seriously?"

"What? I've heard it's good," he said, feigning innocence. Then the wicked grin appeared again. He put one long arm across the back of the couch and propped his feet up on the coffee table. She saw the invitation for what it was and turned, sinking against him, her head resting on his shoulder. The contact sent little excited sparks through her, but there was also a real comfort in the warmth of him.

About ten minutes into the movie, Cary Grant's character made a crack about the girl, "making goo-goo eyes at him for two years" and Felicity felt as well as heard Oliver's low chuckle.

She turned to give him a dirty look, but froze at the look on his face. He was staring at her in a way that made her feel like the single most important thing in his world.

"Sorry it took me awhile," he said. He brought his hand up and trailed it across her cheekbone.

She closed her eyes, focusing on the slight roughness of his fingertips against her skin. "I understand."

When she opened her eyes he was a breath away, and knowing what was coming didn't keep her from being utterly overwhelmed when he closed that small distance, his lips fitting to hers. The kiss was slow and soft, and filled with a level of tenderness that she hadn't quite expected from him. She pulled back for a moment to breathe and then she moved forward, restarting the kiss, and feeling him smile again. The sound of the movie became a distant buzz as she turned into him and his hand slid down her neck, stroking gently.

When he finally pulled away to look at her he said. "I should have done that a long time ago."

She placed a quick kiss on his jaw. "The important thing is that you did it now."

With another stunning smile, he sat back, pulling her against him. By the time the closing music of His Girl Friday echoed through the basement of the abandoned steel factory, they were asleep, finally in each others arms.


	10. Everybody Made It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's a post-battle "we're happy to be alive" kiss. I was tempted to call this chapter "Sara's Threat"... I find it interesting that I wrote this before Oliver and Sara had their little fling, and yet post-fling I think it still works.

They had all walked into this knowing they might not come out. Oliver had even risked contacting Sara, just to try and even the odds a little. Instead, he felt like he might have pulled a third friend into a fatal situation.

He was down to his last arrow. He fired, taking out yet another thug. Sara was over his shoulder somewhere, still moving, still fighting. Running forward he ripped an arrow out of a fallen man, ignoring the man's cry of pain, and whipped around to take out one of the three men Sara was trying to handle.

With that one down she managed to take out the other two attackers with couple of quick strikes of her staff. She looked up at him, gaze sharp through her mask. "How many more?"

He shook his head. "Don't know."

He heard familiar gunshots echo through the building – a single handgun, not an automatic weapon. "Digg!" Oliver called, breaking into a run. Digg was trying to guard Felicity as she attempted to hack into the building's computer system and find a way to stop the poison that was being released into Starling City's air. He hated, to his very core, that she had to be there in person, but with the whole city at stake there hadn't been much choice.

It didn't help that whoever was doing the poisoning seemed to have a damned army at his disposal.

"Where are you guys?" Oliver called out, hoping their communications were still working. He raced up a flight of stairs and swore as another four guys appeared in the stairway in front of him. He knew Sara had his back, but how long could they do this? His last two flechettes took out a couple of them, and again Sara had the other two handled before he could blink.

"Third floor! West side." Digg said and the sound of more gunfire popped in Oliver's earpiece.

"I've almost got it." It was Felicity's voice. The sound of her, even more than the news that this was almost over gave him a shot of energy and he plowed through a guard at the stairwell door, knocking the semiautomatic from his hands.

Another half dozen men charged toward them from one hallway, and Oliver growled in frustration knowing that Digg and Felicity were in the other direction.

"Go," Sara ordered, stooping to pick up the gun. She gave him a slightly evil smile. "I got this."

With only one second of hesitation, Oliver headed toward Digg and Felicity. Then out of nowhere he heard a bang and felt the shot penetrate his side. He let out a grunt of pain as it slammed him into the wall.

"Oliver!" came Felicity's panicked voice. "Are you okay?"

"Finish the job," he ground out. It hurt like hell, but he knew from past experience that was no way of gauging how injured he actually he was.

Turning he saw a man coming toward him – a man he recognized, the city's new chief of police.

"You?" Oliver said, choking out the word. He wasn't easily shocked these days, but this one threw him.

"Aren't you tired of their messes?" the chief said, pointing his gun at Oliver. "You know as well as anyone how disgusting the people of this city can be." A pager of some kind on his belt went off and he looked at it scowling. "That little friend of yours is extremely clever. But I've got a surprise for…"

There was another gunshot, and Oliver watched the blood stain spread across the man's shirt seconds before he dropped to the ground. Looking up, Oliver saw Sara at the end of the hall.

"I know you're on a kinder, gentler streak," she said sauntering toward him. "But that guy pissed me off."

"I can live with it," Oliver said quietly. He put a hand to his side and struggled to his feet.

Sara came to him and looked behind him. "Bullet went through clean, you'll probably live."

He gave her a tired smile as Felicity's voice filled his head again. "I'm in now, I just need a few more seconds," she said. "Oliver, are you there?"

He felt a wave of relief, but then his brain caught up to the last thing the police chief had said. A warning was just forming in his head when she spoke again.

"The delivery system is down," she said. "But it seems like…" There was an odd rustling sound and then a few seconds of silence. Before he could react there was the sound of an explosion and a hiss of static through his earpiece.

"Felicity!" he shouted. "Digg!" He shoved away from the wall, grateful that Sara moved to offer her shoulder as they struggled down the hallway.

As they got closer dust and smoke filled the air, and he felt a sinking dread in his stomach. What if he had just lost them both? He almost froze at the thought, and it suddenly felt hard to breath.

Then, still twenty feet away, Oliver saw them. They were both coated with dust, and Digg had a pronounced limp, but they were alive and whole.

His gaze went to Felicity, and just at that moment she looked up to see him. The smile that spread across her face made most of his pain seem like background noise and she hurried toward him. "Oliver!"

Sara dropped her mouth close to his ear. "If you don't kiss her this time I'll break your arms." She chuckled at his startled expression and stepped away.

There was a tiny flare of irritation inside of him, but he couldn't help but grin. Felicity stopped just inches from him, clearly noticing his injury. Her hand reached out to where his covered the blood soaked bullet wound. "Are you okay? I thought maybe…"

He grabbed her hand. "So did I," he said his voice rough.

She looked up at him, and in spite of the pain churning in his side, he felt an almost dizzying sense of euphoria. They had made it – all of them. He'd actually managed to get something right. And with that feeling, and Sara's words, rattling around in his head he leaned forward and kissed Felicity.

She took in a startled breath of air, but then she surged up on her toes and kissed him back. The motion set him off balance a bit and he stumbled.

"Sorry!" she blurted, reaching out to steady him. "I'm sorry…I just, when you kissed me it was like my brain stopped working and I forgot… I mean, I didn't forget, because how can I forget you've been shot and…"

"Felicity?" he said, allowing himself to lean on her a bit more.

"Yes?" she said nervously putting an arm around him.

He winced as they took steps toward the exit, Digg and Sara following just a step behind them. "I think I might need you to play doctor with me again," he said, unable to resist teasing her with the phrase she had once used to describe patching up his wounds.

She blushed, and it made him smile. "I can do that," she said.


	11. Out of His Mind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm certainly not the first person to take a shot at the "Oliver Says/Does Something Interesting Because He's Drugged" type of scenario, but this is what insisted on rattling around in my head so I ran with it. Then it sort of exploded and became this – the longest piece I'd written for this collection.

Felicity's role in rescuing Oliver from the latest masked psycho was frustratingly simple. Sara and Digg had told her that what they really needed was eyes and ears. Once they were close enough, Felicity's job was to hack the uber-protected wireless of the warehouse laboratory, and help them make it through security. She noticed that it also put her well clear of any actual fighting, which managed to make her annoyed and grateful at the same time.

And so she sat in the back of the black town car on the docks of Starling City, madly typing and whispering through her earpiece. The unintentional side effect of all of this was that she found Oliver before they did.

As the security feed flipped images of rooms and corridors across the corner of her laptop, she caught a glimpse of a man strapped into a chair. Even though his head was slumped to his chest she recognized him immediately.

"He's on the second floor!" Felicity told Digg. "Lab number seven"

"We just need a minute," Sara replied, her tone even but with a hint of humor. Felicity heard grunts and shouts of pain in the background. Seriously, that girl knew how to kick butt.

In spite of the situation, Felicity couldn't help but smile a little as her fingers flew over the keys, pulling the image of lab seven to the center of her screen. The smile disappeared as she watched Oliver twitch and squirm as if in pain.

"Hurry," Felicity whispered, more to herself than to Digg or Sara.

"What?" Digg's voice snapped back through her ear piece.

"He's alone, but something is really wrong," she said, unable to keep the panic out of her voice.

In the image Felicity could see his lips moving. A few extra commands allowed her to engage the audio record feature of the security camera, and suddenly Oliver's voice came through her laptop speaker. The words were broken and mumbled, almost impossible to make out, but the tone of his voice made her sick to her stomach. He sounded more broken and more scared then she had ever imagined Oliver could sound.

She caught an occasional word - his sister's name, a phrase in Mandarin, and in a moment that stopped her cold, three distinct words. "Please, not Felicity."

Her throat thickened, and without even consciously realizing what she was doing her hand went to the handle of the car door. They had to get to him. Just as she was about to get out of the car, the surveillance footage showed her a welcome sight - Sara and Digg crashing through the door of the lab where Oliver sat.

"We've got him," Digg said.

It seemed like it took an eternity for them to make it from that room to where the car waited. The minute Felicity could see the trio she ran toward them. Oliver was propped between Sara and Digg. His face was ashen, but Felicity couldn't see any major injuries. However, the look on Digg's face told her that all was not well.

"What is it?" she said, shouting to Digg before she'd even reached them.

Digg shook his head as she came forward. "Some kind of drug, I think. It's really messing with his head."

"Oliver?" She wanted so badly to touch him, but felt awkward with Digg and Sara watching her.

Oliver's eyes came open, but they were unfocused. "Felicity?" he said, and there was heartbreaking confusion in his tone.

Unable to stop herself now, she raised her hand to his face. He sucked in a breath as her skin came in contact with his and he said, the words slightly slurred, "Then I didn't kill you?"

"Of course not," she said gently. She exchanged a look with Sara and Digg.

"Let's just get him out of here," Digg said, his voice full of the same worry Felicity felt.

Sara stepped back as they reached the car. "You go. We still haven't found the chief nutjob yet. I'm going to see what I can get out of the ones we left alive."

"I can't let you do that alone," Digg said, his voice sounding torn. He looked at Felicity. "Let's get you two in the car."

Felicity wanted to argue, to tell him that they needed to get Oliver some help, but she knew that Oliver would be the first person to tell them that the mission came first. She nodded and reached to shove the back door of the car farther open.

"Get in and pull," Digg told her. It wasn't the first time they'd done this.

She did as instructed, sliding into the car, hardly noticing when she knocked her laptop to the floor. Reaching up she took as much of the weight of Oliver's head and shoulders as she could, pulling him with her as she moved across the backseat. As Digg shoved his friend's legs in Oliver twitched violently and Felicity barely moved in time to avoid getting head butted. Wrapping an arm around his upper body she pushed him down, and tried not to think too hard about the fact that half of him was in her lap.

She glanced back at Digg and Sara and gulped as Digg thrust one of his guns at her. Looking up at him with panicked eyes, she took it.

"If anyone comes just point at the middle and shoot, alright?" Digg said.

She nodded, and looked between Digg and Sara. "Be careful."

Sara gave a grim smile, her eyes hard behind the Canary mask. "Not a chance." Then she disappeared into the darkness with shocking speed. With a muttered curse Digg followed behind.

Felicity carefully set the gun in the back window of the car and turned to Oliver. His eyes had closed and the twitching and muttering had started again.

"Oliver?" she said putting her hand on his face. "Oliver!"

His eyes snapped open and the twitching seemed to stop as his eyes met hers. "Still here," he said, his voice full of disbelief.

She didn't know exactly what he meant, but at least his voice sounded a fraction more normal. "Oliver, we think someone drugged you."

He nodded then, and his eyes actually seemed to focus for a brief second. "It's nightmares…nothing but nightmares, and they don't stop." His voice broke again on the last word, and Felicity felt like she was an inch from crying.

"Shhh…" she said, her fingers moving across his face. "It's okay. Everything is fine."

"I'm so sorry," he said, in a voice that came out between clenched teeth. "I'm so sorry for what I've done to you."

"You haven't done anything to me, Oliver. Whatever you saw wasn't real." She knew she should take her hand off of his face, but with the pain in his expression she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"This is real," he muttered. "And you're scared. I hate it when you're scared."

She smiled at him and did her best to force all the worry she felt out of her expression. "I'm not scared when I'm with you." As she spoke, the truth of those words made the first actual tear fall down her face – that was not helping.

He brought his hand up and wiped the tear off of her cheek. "Don't leave me," he said, and from the glaze in his eyes and the tremor in his hand she knew he was still under the influence of the drug. For all she knew he wasn't even talking to her, or even about her, anymore. Still the desperation in his voice, and her own longing cut into her.

She turned her face into his hand. "I'm right here," she said, leaning closer to him, hoping he could see her. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Why do you love me?" The words came out as an angry, desperate whisper.

She opened her mouth to dismiss the question, but couldn't do it. Suddenly it didn't matter to her who he thought he was talking to - her, his family, Shado, Sara, or hell, even Laurel. Whatever the drug had done to him she suspected that this question was an absolute reality in the life of Oliver Queen – that somehow, what had happened in his past made him feel unworthy of being loved. And she was going to answer that question, even if he didn't remember, or, what was more frightening, even if he did.

"I love you because even with demons eating you alive, you still care enough to help people," she said, reaching up to hold the hand that still hovered near her face. "I love you because you take everything head on, and because you make me smile and …" she struggled, shaking her head, "because I can't seem to stop, no matter how much you push me away." She swallowed hard, hating that another tear fell. She couldn't believe she'd said so much, it was like the drug in his system had overpowered her common sense as well.

He blinked, and the look he gave her seemed so truly like him that she froze.

"I don't want to push you away anymore," he said.

Their faces were a breath apart and afterward, she could never remember who had moved first – but their lips were pressed together, his hand tightening gently on her cheek and her hand sliding down underneath the sleeve of green leather to grasp his wrist. Whatever was wrong with him, it clearly hadn't affected his ability to kiss, and she let out a noise of protest as his head dropped back down.

"Not all nightmares, then," he said his voice rough.

The words pulled her back to her senses, and she wondered just how aware he was. Did he still think this wasn't real? Before she could ask she heard footsteps and yanked her head up, reaching for the gun. Luckily it was just Digg running back toward the car.

As he slid into the driver's seat, his voice was full of frustration. "They're all hired guns, didn't know a damned thing. How is he?"

"Digg?" Oliver said, still sounding more than a little confused. "Digg, I feel really weird."

Felicity's eyes met Digg's in the rear-view mirror. "Don't know," she said. "He seems to be a little better."

When she looked back at Oliver she saw that his eyes were closed, but this time the twitching and mumbling had stopped. In fact, if anything he looked more peaceful than she'd ever seen him. She felt an odd mix of hope and terror as she wondered what exactly he was going to recall about this night. "Let's just get him home," she said, running her fingers through his hair.

They took him back to the Foundry, and managed to wrestle him down the stairs and onto the medical table. Digg force fed him some herbs, and hooked up the blood pressure and pulse monitor. "Looks good," he said with a shrug. "All we can do now is wait." He glanced at his watch. "Maybe you should go home."

"No, I'm staying," she said. She caught his curious glance as she slid forward to reach for Oliver's hand, but ignored it, resting her head on the back of her chair.

She was half asleep when a twitch of that hand pulled her upright. "Oliver?" she said, standing beside him.

He blinked, and she watched his features change from peaceful to the carefully blank look he so often wore. It made her both sad and relieved.

"How are you feeling?" she said.

"Not great," he responded, his voice gravelly. He struggled to sit up, and used one hand to pull off the blood pressure clip and heart machine leads. Felicity was surprised when he made no effort to pull his hand from hers. Coughing he said, "What happened?"

"By the time we found you that freakshow had you tripping on some really nasty drug," Digg explained. "Physically you seem pretty okay, but…"

Felicity watched a haunted look cross Oliver's features. "Did we get him?"

"Not yet," Digg said. "Sara's on it."

Oliver nodded, and he swallowed in a way that looked painful. "Digg," he said, his voice a croak. "Could you get me some water?"

For just one moment Digg looked between Oliver and Felicity then he nodded, "Sure man."

The moment Digg had moved out of earshot, Oliver turned to her. He glanced down at their joined hands and then gave an odd roll of his shoulders, obviously uncomfortable. "So I've got a lot of crap rolling around in my head, but did I…" he paused and let out a breath. "Did I kiss you?'

"Yeah," she said. "Or I kissed you…I'm not really clear on the exact logistics of the situation, but …"

"Felicity," he said, his voice still sounding like sandpaper. There were a hundred possible meanings in the way he said her name and it made her nervous.

She pulled her hand from his and stepped back, feeling suddenly cold. "I get it, you weren't thinking clearly and you probably didn't mean any of what you said."

With obvious effort he hopped down from the table and on instinct she moved to grab him as he staggered a bit. Digg had pulled off his jacket to get the medical equipment on him, and Oliver's arm was warm under her fingers. He righted himself quickly, but instead of pulling away he held on to her, his hands gripping her shoulders.

"What you said to me," he asked looking down at her. "Was that real?"

"You mean the part about…" she hesitated, and looked down at the floor. "You caring about people, and stuff?"

"Yeah," he said. Then he let out a puff of air that was both half-a laugh and a sigh. "I guess that answers my question." He went silent then, and Felicity felt almost physically ill with embarrassment and sorrow.

"Really…we can…." her throat caught and she paused, hoping she could get out of here without crying. "We can just forget about it."

"I don't think we can," he said. His voice was thick with emotion, though she couldn't tell exactly what kind. Still it was enough to make her risk looking up at him. His eyebrows were lowered and his eyes locked onto her face, "My brain's still trying to sort out the real from the crazy, But," again he paused, but this time hope allowed her to be patient. "I don't think I said anything to you I didn't mean. Even if I never meant to say it." His hand came up from her shoulder then to touch her face.

"You said…you said, you were tired of pushing me away," she echoed. "Does that mean you're going to stop?"

He blinked and to her total amazement she saw his eyes were wet with tears. "I don't think I have a choice anymore. Tonight I saw things… kept seeing you and…" He sounded desperate again, and she realized how pale he still was, the deep circles under his eyes like bruises against his skin. "I don't think I could handle losing you."

"I'm not going anywhere," she said. "You need to rest. You're still not okay."

He nodded and let her gently push him back until he sat on the medical table. Digg came into the room and handed Oliver a glass of water. Oliver drank it greedily and handed back the empty glass. "I don't suppose…"

"You know," Digg said, sounding irritated, but there was a teasing look in his eye, "you could just tell me you need a minute to talk to Felicity."

"I need another glass of water," Oliver said firmly, but then he reached out and took her hand in his. "And my next conversation with Felicity is going to take more than a minute, so it might have to wait until we've caught this guy." He turned to look at her, and the depth of emotion in his eyes made her take a breath. "If that's okay with you?"

"I can wait," she said. "The mission comes first."

Oliver's face broke into a wide smile, and as Digg moved to go get the previously mentioned glass of water, Oliver pulled her close enough to whisper in her ear. "And that's part of why I love you."


	12. Out of His League

"Go Green For Starling" she muttered, looking around a room decorated with giant glittering chartreuse dollar signs and bulletin board sized photos of $100 bills. "Seriously?"

"It's an environmental fundraiser, what did you expect?" Digg asked.

"Less cheese for $1000 a ticket," Felicity said. Not that she'd paid $1000.

"We like green, remember?" he said, giving her a significant look.

"Yeah, yeah," she said, and walked into the room. It had been a long and tiring week. Oliver had been in an odd mood, at once both sweeter to her and grumpier at the same time. And, if she hadn't known better, she would swear that he had wanted her at this party not for any tactical reason, but just to have her nearby.

That was a nice, if crazy thought, but she had Chinese leftovers and a security hack waiting for her back at the foundry which, right at the moment, was much more her idea of a good time.

She sighed and feeling slightly rebellious grabbed a glass a champagne from a silver tray. The glass alone probably cost more than her shoes. It was events like this that reminded her how much her life had changed, and, less pleasantly, how much her upbringing had differed from Oliver's.

"That's a dark look for such a beautiful girl," came a voice behind her.

She turned to see a tall, black-haired man who looked a few years older than she was. He looked bored and handsome. Really, really, handsome.

"Maybe I should talk to our hosts to see if we could liven things up," he said stepping closer to her.

"I'm not exactly a guest," Felicity said. "So it doesn't matter what I think." She took a sip of the champagne. Surprisingly, it wasn't that good.

The man looked down at her light blue cocktail dress. "You don't look like the help."

"I work for Oliver Queen," she said. "Executive Assistant."

"Work for him, huh?" The man grinned. "Lucky guy."

There was a hint of innuendo in the last two words, but it still felt more like a true compliment than an attack on her honor. "Yeah," she said, tilting her head. "I'm a wicked fast typer."

Taking another step toward her the man laughed. "Beautiful and funny," he said, tipping his glass of champagne in her direction. "That's a rare combination."

Felicity wasn't naïve enough to think that this guy was in anyway seriously interested in her, but he was charming. And apparently you didn't need a crowbar to get a smile out of him.

"I'm Garrison Reed," he said. "Everyone calls me Reed."

"Felicity Smoak," she replied. He extended his hand and she shook it, very aware of the warmth of it when he didn't let go.

Shifting his grip so his hand enveloped hers he said, "I don't suppose you'd have time for a dance?"

Felicity was just debating the answer to that question when Oliver's voice broke into her thoughts.

"Felicity!" She turned to see him striding toward them. His face was nearly expressionless, but there was a tension in his jaw that she recognized. Her partner was not happy. Had something gone wrong with their plan?

"Yes?" she said, not bothering to hide her irritation.

"Could I have a word with you?" Oliver asked, coming up to take her elbow. Reed hadn't let go of her hand, and while she realized most girls would have been pleased to be the middle of a hot-rich-guy sandwich, Felicity felt a surge of annoyance.

She looked at Oliver and through clenched teeth said, "Could it wait?"

"No it can't," Oliver said, giving her his fake polite smile. She kind of hated that smile.

Reed gave Oliver a pointed look. "Surely you could spare your assistant for one dance, Queen."

The glare Oliver leveled at Reed startled Felicity. That glare usually lived behind the Arrow mask. "Not if that dance is with you," he said.

Felicity had a feeling that there was more going on in this little conversation then she understood. She gently disentangled her hand from Reed's grip and said, "Excuse us."

She let Oliver maneuver them toward a quiet corner, his hand never leaving her arm.

"We're supposed to be working," he said, glaring at the glass of champagne in her hand.

"I took one sip, okay?" she said making a face. "And it's not very good, you'd think they'd know how to buy decent …"

"Felicity," he said, his voice sharp. "Have you seen any sign of our mystery man?"

She shook her head. "No."

"Keep looking," he ordered. "And stay away from Garrison Reed."

She felt a spike of anger. "I think I get to decide who I talk to Oliver."

He shook his head. "Not in this crowd you don't."

Suddenly she understood. She wasn't the only one who felt like she didn't belong at this party. "Why? Because they're out of my league?"

A flicker of hurt crossed over Oliver's face. "Felicity, I…" he trailed off. Then the hard mask dropped back across his features. "There he is," he said in a low voice, diving back into the crowd.

Felicity watched as he headed toward the informant they were looking for, wishing that she could shove her emotions to the side as easily as Oliver did.

By the time the latest bad guy informant had been terrified by an arrow shot millimeters away from his right ear, the party was over, though Oliver was chasing some other lead into the darkness. Instead of heading home to change, Felicity had Digg take her back to the foundry. She hoped if she worked quickly enough she could actually get more than four hours of sleep for once.

She was nearly finished with the hack when she heard Oliver come in. "Digg go home?" he asked, coming to lean against the table next to her.

"Yeah," she said. "I made him. He's getting less sleep these days than I am."

Oliver seemed to be waiting for her to say something else, but she still felt stung by the whole Garrison Reed thing, so she stayed very focused on the screen in front of her. Finally he moved away, presumably to change his clothes. A few minutes later the computer flashed, letting her know her decryption had worked.

Standing up, she stretched and reached for her coat, looking up to see Oliver walk back into the room. She tilted her head toward the monitor. "That's what you asked me for. I'm going home."

"Let me walk you to your car," he said. His hands were in his pockets and he looked uncomfortable.

She shook her head. "I can handle it." He didn't argue but as she went to walk past him, he moved to block her path and held up a hand.

"Felicity," he said quietly. "I need to say something."

"What?" she asked looking him in the eye.

He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I used to be just like Garrison Reed, and in a lot of ways I still am." Reaching out he laid his hand on her arm. "So trust me. You're the one who is out of his league."

Though she tried to ignore it, the tone of his voice and his touch made her stomach do a little flip. Still, she needed to make her own choices. "Don't you think it's up to me to decide who I spend time with?"

He swallowed. "Of course." He took a long deep breath, and looked away from her. "But you deserve better than someone who has that kind of history with women."

Felicity felt like there was more meaning in what he said than the words themselves, and so she dug a little deeper. "What kind of history?" she asked.

When he looked back up there was a rueful hint of a smile on his face. "The epic disaster kind."

She wondered who exactly they were talking about. "Maybe he's changed," she said, her voice just above a whisper.

Oliver looked at her, his eyes locking on to hers. "What if he hasn't?"

Felicity swallowed, "I'm a big girl, Oliver. Some things are worth a little risk."

He ran his fingers lightly down her arm. "You're not something I'm willing to risk, Felicity." He stepped back suddenly. "Not to Reed, and not to anyone else."

She wasn't willing to let him walk away from this conversation, not yet. For once, all of the craziness between them was starting to make sense. She took a step toward him and grabbed his arm. "This isn't really about Reed is it? It's about you."

He didn't speak but the wash of sadness across his features confirmed that she was right. She felt a bit dazed, unable to fully wrap her mind around the realization that he didn't think he was good enough for her. "Oliver, I know you – maybe better than anyone, and I trust you."

"You shouldn't," he said, the words coming out strangled. "I'm not a good man and you deserve a good man."

Felicity shook her head. "That's crazy, and even if it weren't, you just said it's up to me to decide who I want to be with – right?"

"Felicity," her name came out as a whispered plea, though for what exactly she wasn't sure.

She stepped forward to put a hand on his chest. His hands came up to grip her waist and she felt a giddy surge of confidence. "Well, I want you. So unless you tell me you're not interested, I'm going to kiss you now."

He didn't say a word, but his fingers tightened on her waist and he didn't argue or move away, so very slowly she pushed onto her tip toes and placed her lips on his. The breath he'd been holding rushed out across her skin as their lips moved and skimmed and fitted together in a slow, perfect rhythm. A noise escaped from the back of his throat and she smiled against his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck.

After what felt like an eternity, and yet also not nearly long enough, they broke apart. The sight of his mouth smeared with her dark pink lipstick made her gulp. "So far, so good," she said, her voice a little unsteady.

He shook his head. "I could still screw this up…still hurt you, and I…"

"Shut up, Oliver," she said, and she leaned up and kissed him again.


	13. Lean on Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I wasn't going to do a "kiss while undercover," because, well, we have 500 of them around here and I wasn't sure I would add much. But someone I'm very fond of gave me this teasing suggestion based on a real experience and I couldn't resist, and I couldn't imagine it happening with these two unless they were on a mission – so here it is. Oliver and Felicity at the state fair, with slight motion sickness, and eventual kissing – i.e. total nonsense.

It really was the perfect place to stage a meeting. There were thousands of people packed into the tiny space, with noise and commotion, and thanks to the carnies, plenty of shady looking characters. Felicity supposed it was mean to stereotype carnival workers, but hey, sometimes things were a cliché for a reason.

Still, in spite of that, she really wished their latest underworld contact would have agreed to meet in a dark alley at night. That would have been business as usual – Oliver showing up armed to the teeth in green leather to see if the guy was legitimate. Instead they were standing underneath a Ferris wheel in broad daylight and he was doing his best to hide his famous face under a Rockets cap.

"Anything?" Digg's voice came through their ear pieces.

"Not yet," Oliver said. "You?"

"Nothing," Digg said. Felicity heard him sigh. "He's fifteen minutes late. This is starting to feel a little wrong, man."

"Yeah," Oliver agreed. "But if there's any chance this guy is for real we need that lead."

Felicity could see the worry in his expression as he spoke, and his eyes made a constant, intense sweep of the crowd behind her.

"It's your call," Digg said.

Oliver straightened; the forced casualness dropping instantly from his posture. "I've got something; next to the carousel." He looked at Felicity. "To your left; he's got a yellow shirt on."

Felicity turned, spotting the man. It was the same man who had "bumped into her" at the coffee shop this morning, with a note claiming he had information for the Arrow. "Yeah," she said, quickly turning back. "That's him."

Oliver's hand came up to rest on her arm. "You sure about this?"

She nodded, swallowing hard. "It's not like the Arrow can just show up at the state fair."

His fingers squeezed gently. "Digg and I will have eyes on you the entire time. Whatever you do don't let him take you anywhere else, okay?"

She nodded and tried to give him a brave smile. Considering he looked more worried than ever she was pretty sure he could see through it. "Got it."

He let out a long breath, and she saw a muscle in his jaw work. With his eyes locked on to hers he said, "Alright, here we go."

She turned, but was only two steps away from him when she heard Digg say loudly. "Bail out now, Felicity."

"What?" she whispered fiercely gaining an odd look from a person nearby.

"There are three obvious Triad goons headed your way. I think this is a trap," Digg said.

At just that moment the man in the yellow shirt next to the Ferris wheel turned, his eyes beginning to scan the area around him. She felt a stab of panic but before she could do anything a hand reached out and pulled her back into the now moving line for the Ferris wheel. A man behind them grumbled but Oliver gave him the full Arrow glare and he looked away.

Pulling her close to his side Oliver whispered in her ear. "Just stay calm and keep your face turned away from the crowd. We don't know how many of them there are."

"But Oliver, I can't…"

Before she could get the sentence out, the carnival worker motioned them up the stairs that lead to the ride. Felicity swallowed hard, she hadn't been on a Ferris wheel since she was thirteen years old. They tended to make her dizzy. She was just about to say something when Digg's voice came to them again. "I've made eight of them now. You guys okay?"

They were standing next to the carnival worker, a guy with a snake tattooed on his neck, and Felicity was very aware that he could hear every word that they said in that moment.

With easy calm, Oliver gave her a smile, it didn't quite reach his eyes, but it would fool most people. "The ferris wheel looks fun," he said. "Don't you think?"

Felicity realized he was passing Digg information it what passed as normal conversation. "Sure, yes," she stuttered out.

"On you go," said the carnival worker, lifting the bar of the empty seat as the wheel came to a stop.

Oliver tugged on her hand. It was the first moment she realized he'd been holding it since they first stepped into the line. Before she could even entirely process they were sitting next to each other and the giant metal wheel had started to turn. As moved them up, backwards no less, Felicity felt her stomach lurch just a bit.

The minute they were out of earshot, Oliver said in a low voice, obviously talking to Diggle, "How many?"

"Haven't seen any more, looks like there are eight of them closing on your position," Digg said. "I'm headed your way."

"No," Oliver said. "Hang back. They don't know what their looking for, other than Felicity. We just need to keep her out of their line of sight."

As the Ferris wheel started back toward the ground, he reached out and pulled her toward him. "Face in my shoulder," he said.

She took a deep breath, both against the thought of getting that close to him, and to fend off her uneasy stomach. Settling her head against his broad shoulder she gulped when she tilted his head in her direction. Knowing that he was just doing it to hide her didn't keep her heart from doing somersaults. He seemed to really focus on her face again for the first time since Digg had sent out his warning. His eyebrows lowered. "You okay?"

She gave a nod. "These rides just make me a little queasy."

The tiniest smile appeared. "You could have mentioned that," he said. His face was close enough that his breath fanned her cheek.

"Wasn't time," she said. For a moment they stared at each other, and Felicity felt that odd charge run between them.

Then Digg's voice broke into her thoughts. "I've got six of them heading toward the east exit, you guys might be in the clear."

"Got it," Oliver said, but he didn't move.

Clearing her throat, Felicity tried to make her voice light. "So, when's the last time you were on a Ferris wheel?'

He shook his head. "Never been."

"Seriously?" she said, giving a little laugh. "Don't tell me it makes you dizzy too?"

He looked slightly annoyed at the implication and narrowed his eyes, but there was a teasing glint as he said. "They're a little sedate for me."

Felicity resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Of course they are." Then remembering this wasn't exactly a private conversation she said. "What about you Digg?"

There was half a chuckle in her ear. "I'm all about the spinning teacups myself."

Felicity couldn't help but smile. Then the Ferris wheel stopped and swooped forward, going faster and she lifted her fingers to her forehead. "Yuck."

"Hang in there," Oliver said. His hand moved between her shoulder blades, rubbing gently, and the combination of comfort and sparks his touch created did distract her a bit from her dizziness.

Finally their car came to a stop and Mr. Snake Neck let them off. She took a couple steps forward and then the world tilted. She was pretty sure she would have fallen down the steps if Oliver hadn't grabbed her.

"Whoa," he said. "You weren't kidding."

She wrapped an arm around her stomach. "No, I really wasn't."

He tugged her to where the corner of another ride blocked them from view of the passing crowd. "Here," he said, turning her to face him. "Just lean on me for a second."

With a relieved sigh, Felicity rested her head against his chest; taking deep breaths to combat the fact that world was still slightly off kilter. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

His ran his hand gently down her arm. "It's okay." His voice had a tenderness that surprised her.

In any other circumstance she might have stayed there for a very long time, but she knew that they weren't in the clear yet. The second she felt her head and stomach settle down she stepped back. "I'm better now, thanks."

"No problem," he said. "Ready?" He held out his hand and though she knew it might be all part of the cover, she couldn't help the little jolt of pleasure that shot through her as she wrapped her fingers around his.

As she followed him out into the crush of people, he spoke to Digg. "We're headed back to you now."

"Good," Digg said. "The sooner we're out of here, the happier I'll be."

They'd gone about 100 yards when the crowd parted slightly and Felicity gasped, seeing that the man in the yellow shirt stood right in their path. Oliver swore under his breath and pulled her quickly to the side, angling them behind a stand selling cotton candy.

"Turn around and look at me," he ordered.

As she did, she saw the man moving in their direction. She didn't know if he had spotted them, and she swallowed hard as she looked at Oliver. "Did he see us?"

Instead of answering her he put a hand on her face. "So, I'm going to…" his voice trailed off, sounding odd.

Before she could even process what he meant to do, Oliver leaned down and kissed her. For a moment she froze, but as his mouth worked against hers she couldn't help but respond. Her hand drifted up to rest against his side, the soft material of his t-shirt warm against her fingertips. He moved to cradle the back of her head and she went up on her toes to deepen the kiss, his other arm coming around to pull her against his body. A very distant part of her brain still registered the noise and the people and the danger, but the rest of her was totally consumed with how spectacular it felt to be kissing him.

Then she heard a noise in her ear that sounded like an awkward cough, "Guys, uh, I can see you," Digg said.

Oliver pulled his head back from hers, but didn't release his hold. The expression in his eyes was charged but unreadable as he scanned the crowd behind her. "The guy in yellow," he asked Digg. "Did you see him?" There was a note of annoyance in his voice, though whether it was directed at Diggle, or their situation, she didn't know.

"He walked past the minute you two started with the PDA," Digg said.

Oliver nodded, "Good." Then he looked down at her, his eyes locking with hers. "Very good."

Her breath faltered, and he smiled a little. Then clearing his throat he stepped back, "We'd better get moving."

"Right," she said. She watched the serious, business-like mask settle back over his features, and felt her heart sink. For just a second she'd really thought… the thought stuttered to a halt as he once again took her hand.

"But they're gone." The thought popped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

He pulled her back into the crowd. "Can't be too careful," he said, his voice flat and even.

In that moment, she'd have paid a lot of money to have been able to see the expression on his face, but she contented herself with the fact that until they were safely in the van he didn't once let go of her.


	14. Rooftop

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the last of the existing kiss fics that I'm moving over, there were a couple of others but they just feel off-pace with the show for me now, so I'm not going to bother with them. I have an idea for a new one kicking around and I'll cross post that one when I finish it. Thanks for reading!

Oliver stood between her and the door. His back was toward her and he was perfectly still but she could feel the anxiousness radiating off of him. Fingers flying across the keyboard of the computer at the center of the lab she prayed her guess had been right. The good news was that if they could get Diggle the antidote in the next forty-eight hours he'd get his sight back, the bad news was that the antidote required a very rare chemical compound. One she hoped this advanced research facility might actually have.

"Felicity?" Oliver asked, his voice was quiet, but she could feel the intensity. They had five minutes max before the lab technicians returned from their meeting.

"I'm sorry, their security is a little better than most. Stupid in house system," she muttered, wading through the screen of code. "But I'm almost in."

He switched his bow from one hand to the other, and she heard him take a deep breath. Finally she found the lab's inventory registry. "Got it!" she exclaimed, scanning her finger down the list of compounds. "Vial number 4173."

"Nice," Oliver said, and she could feel the sincerity of the compliment. "Now we have to find it"

They both furiously started scanning the cabinets that surrounded them. Finally Felicity spotted it. "Here!" she shouted, she grabbed the padded case from her pocket, popped open the door of the cabinet, and slid the glass tube into place. "I've got it."

Her eyes widened as they heard voices coming from the hallway beyond the door. "Oliver!" she hissed.

Without missing a beat he walked past her, snagging her hand in his, his fingers locked around hers. "Plan B then."

"What's Plan B?" she whispered, following behind him as he strode toward one of the wide windows. He stopped and reached for the old fashioned lever-lock that held the window closed, giving it a sharp tug. It sprang open and he pulled her up beside him onto the waist high window ceil.

Felicity gulped as she looked out the window and down to the pavement twenty stories below. There was narrow brick ledge and he stepped out onto it. She hesitated, "I don't think I'm going to like Plan B," she said.

His only response was a quick squeeze of her hand before he let go. "Close the window," he ordered, as he reached for an arrow.

She grabbed the metal edge of the window and yanked it shut, then looked to see Oliver nocking a rappelling arrow. He pointed it up and let it fly into the building across from them. It lodged in the wall about twenty feet above where the building narrowed leaving a span of open roof.

He extended the arm that still held his bow out to her. "Grab on to me." She hesitated for the briefest second and his gaze beyond the green mask held hers. "I won't let you fall."

She nodded and turned, curling one arm around his neck and the other around his ribs. It was the closest she'd been to him in a long time, and to her there was an almost palpable charge in the air around them as she buried her fingers into the green leather of his jacket.

"Good," he murmured, his voice low in her ear. "Tight now."

She felt his bow bump her shoulders as he locked the arm around her. He didn't jump so much as simply step off the edge and the world dropped away beneath their feet. There was a dizzying blur of distant lights, and the air whipped through her ponytail.

They landed with a jarring thud on the neighboring roof and only Oliver's grasp kept her from stumbling. He pulled her into the shadows before coming to a stop. For a few seconds she didn't move, her heart hammering in her chest as she took deep breaths; inhaling the smell of leather and something else that was uniquely him. Slowly she began to realize that he had dropped the end of the rappelling cable and that arm had settled around her waist, holding her as much as she was holding him.

"You okay?" he asked, his breath ruffling the hair at her temple.

"At least we didn't have to crash through a window this time," she said into his jacket.

She felt rather than heard the quick silent laugh. The hand on her waist slid up, settling perfectly into the curve of her lower back and the motion made her swallow hard. For a long minute they just stood, wrapped in each other and the darkness. He'd never once held her like this, but it felt exactly right, a small moment of delicious comfort after the relentless, panicked week they'd both had.

"Felicity," he said.

She loved it when he said her name like that - warm, and yet full of rough edges. That was the voice she dreamt about; even when he was making her crazy. She leaned back to look at him, but the shadows of his hood made his face unreadable. "Yes?" she asked.

He didn't respond and the silence was charged. "I…" he said, and she could hear a note of uncertainty in his voice. "I want…"

Not knowing if it was the adrenaline that gave her the courage she inched her face even closer to his. "What?" she whispered.

There was enough light that she saw the small upturn of his lips before he leaned down, settling his mouth against hers. There was no hurry in this kiss, just a swamping sense of warmth and electricity, their breaths gasping into each other as they returned again and again to taste and explore. In that kiss she felt something stunning, the realization that he'd been waiting for this just as desperately as she had.

He tried to pull her even tighter and his bow jarred into the back of her head. She let out a little chuckle as he swore. "That was smooth," he grumbled.

"The perils of kissing a hero," she murmured, burying her face against his neck. She pressed her lips just under his jaw and then reluctantly pulled back. "We need to get this to John," she said patting the case in her pocket.

He nodded, and reached for her hand again. "Let's go home."


	15. I Believe in You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really would like to see a scene where Oliver is the one being understanding and encouraging when Felicity has made a mistake, a mirror image of what she has done for him so many times – so I wrote one.

He stepped quietly into the room and, had the situation been any less serious, he would have smiled. She sat on the floor, her knees pulled to her chest, against one of the pillars. The same pillar he had so often sat against to try and make sense out of the world.

He couldn't see her face, buried in her arms, but he could hear the sniffling. He swallowed hard and realized how rare it was for Felicity to really cry. He'd seen her eyes glassy with tears – when they had thought Walter was dead, when Slade's goons had been burning down the city – but he couldn't ever remember hearing this.

He deliberately made his steps a little louder as he walked, just to let her know he was there. Her shoulders stiffened but she didn't look up.

Standing in front of her, he said. "Felicity."

"Just leave me alone." A little sob came out, but her face remained hidden.

Taking a deep breath he crouched down and put a hand on her shoulder. "This isn't a comfortable spot. Trust me, I know."

She glanced up, "So what." Her eyes behind her glasses were red and puffy, and her bright lipstick was smudged.

He reached for her hand. "Come on," he said, pulling gently until she stood.

The moment she was on her feet she turned away from him, pacing across the room and wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her sweater. "You can yell at me now."

He looked at the ceiling and then back to her. "I'm not going to yell at you."

She turned then, and it was her voice that was loud. "Why not? You and John were nearly killed, Oliver. Roy is in the hospital. And it's my fault."

"No," he said, calmly walking toward her. "It's your father's fault. And you are not your father."

"I let him use me, Oliver," she said. "I should have…" her voice broke and she put her face in her hands.

He couldn't stand it. He didn't care what they were or weren't or could never be, he could not just stand there and do nothing while she came apart. Stepping toward her he pulled her into his arms. For a moment she was stiff and resisting, but finally she sagged against him. He wrapped one arm around her waist and brought his hand up to cradle the back of her head. "You trust people…" he swallowed hard, "you love people who are hard to love. It's what you do, and I'm the last person in the world who can fault you for that."

She looked up at him, a tiny flicker of hope in her eyes. "Even if it makes me do stupid things?"

He shook his head. "Not stupid."

Looking away from him she said, "After what happened to the three of you I don't know how you can ever trust me again."

He reached down and tilted up her chin so she was looking at him. "Because I believe in you, Felicity."

The expression on her face was filled with hope and gratitude and, he had to admit, love. He ran his thumb across her bottom lip, and lowered his head slowly, giving her time to stop him if she wanted out. Instead she closed her eyes and met him half way, their lips meeting in a kiss that was a mix of the salty tang of despair and the sweetness of hope.

When he pulled back she shook her head slightly. "I nearly get you killed and that's what makes you kiss me?"

He couldn't help but smile a little. "You know me, I never do things the easy way."

She laughed a little and reached up to wipe the tears from her face. Taking her hand in his, he said. "I'm going to go check on Roy, want to come?"

Taking a deep breath she looked uncertain again. "Does he even want to see me?"

Oliver tilted his head to the side, and put a fake glare on his face. "If he doesn't I'll put another arrow in him."

That made her laugh a little, and she wrapped her fingers more tightly in his. He didn't know if this kiss and this moment would change things between them, and for once he didn't care. He was just glad to see her smile again.


	16. None of Your Business

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy asks Oliver a question, but it's Felicity who gets the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Given the Season 3 promo I have a feeling this might be the penultimate entry in this collection. I actually wasn’t going to add anything to this until I saw the premiere. But I was inspired by a couple of Stephen Amell’s recent comments about Oliver and Felicity (both the serious and funny) and I wanted to see if I could find a way to work them both believably into the same one-shot.

Felicity walked down the stairs into the lair, surprised when neither Oliver nor Roy acknowledged her entrance. She supposed it was a combination of the intensity of their training session and the fact that for once she was wearing sneakers instead of heels.

It was only when their conversation veered to more personal topics that she wondered if she should have announced her presence.

"Felicity say anything to you about how the new job is going?" Oliver asked Roy, as he twisted out of the younger man's attempt at a headlock.

"Not to me," Roy said. "Why?"

Felicity looked up from where she was typing and stared. If Oliver wanted to know how her new job was going, why didn't he just ask her?

Oliver shrugged and threw a punch that was narrowly blocked by Roy. "Just wondered if she said anything about that guy she works with."

Roy smirked. "He sounds like a total nerd. I wouldn't worry about it."

Felicity suppressed a laugh. Yes, Kyle her co-worker was an absolute nerd. And not the good kind.

"So can I ask you something?" Roy asked.

Oliver dodged a swing from Roy and said, with an irritated edge in his voice. "I guess."

Roy let out a grunt as a punch from Oliver connected with his ribs and said. "So what is the deal with you and Felicity?"

She held her breath waiting for Oliver's answer, but then something unprecedented happen. Roy threw a punch and Oliver did not move. He didn't evade, he didn't duck, he stood still as a statue as Roy's fist contacted, fairly hard, with his jaw. Knocked off balance he stumbled back and landed with a resounding thud, right on his butt.

Oliver glared up at Roy for a moment then gave him half a smile. "Nice shot."

Roy tilted his head. "Thank you."

Slowly Oliver pulled himself to his feet. "But now that I've been nice to you – what's going on with me and Felicity is none of your damn business."

Felicity felt a little surge of excitement. She supposed it was wishful thinking but the fact that he hadn't said, "Nothing" – or the dreaded, "Felicity and I are just friends" – suggested that there might in fact be something going on from his end of things. Which was good, because there were certainly things going on from her end. It had become tougher with each passing week not to touch him, to try and hide the way she felt about him, and there were moments when she actually thought he might be having the same problem.

She must have made some noise because both of them froze and then turned to stare at her. Roy looked startled, Oliver continued to look irritated.

She cleared her throat. "For the record," she said quickly. "I've been here for about forty minutes now."

Roy glanced between the two of them and clearly in response to Oliver's continued glower said, "You know what? I think I need a break, I'll just…" He pulled his shirt from a neaby table and hurried up the stairs.

When he was gone Felicity glanced back at Oliver. He was still standing as if frozen, but his glare had been replaced with something that held an odd mix of warmth and uneasiness. She put down the ear piece she'd been working on and walked toward him. "You all right?"

He nodded and shrugged with a slight, chagrined smile. "Not the first time Roy's knocked me down."

She raised her eyebrows. Her feet hit the training mat, but she kept going until she was in arms reach of him. "It's the first time he did it without help."

Oliver's expression found its way to an actual smile and Felicity had to swallow hard. She'd do a lot for that smile. He raised one very shirtless shoulder and said. "Oh, he might not have had the mirakuru, but he still had help."

"Oh?" Felicity said, tilting her head and daring to move a bit closer.

Oliver mirrored her move and his eyes wandered over her face. "Distraction is a powerful weapon."

His voice was so serious as he said it, that she almost laughed. She inched forward again. If either of them moved now, they'd have to be touching. "And what exactly has you so distracted, Mr. Queen?"

Reaching out, his fingers just brushed the skin of her arm. In a tone one notch above a whisper he said, "You."

"Yeah?" she asked, feeling a little breathless.

He nodded once, his gaze glued to hers. "Yes."

There was something in that word, something tinged with worry. "Am I a good distraction or a bad one?"

Shaking his head, Felicity saw him swallow hard, and he said, "I don't know."

It stung, and she blinked against sudden tears. She tried to step away but Oliver reached down to grab her hand. "Wait," he said.

She clenched her teeth, wondering how a single question from Roy had brought them to this. "There's just…" Oliver started and then paused clearing his throat. "There's just a lot of risk in this. In us."

Squaring her shoulders Felicity looked him in the eyes, and said firmly. "That's true, Oliver, it is. But life is short, and if we don't take chances with our hearts, then what are we even doing here?"

He was silent as he took three breaths so deep that his shoulders visibly rose and fell with the weight of it. Then, finally, a tiny bright smile broke the serious set of his features. "You are the smart one."

Before she could respond to that, he closed the distance between them, his hand coming up to cradle the back of her head, and his lips settling warm and insistent over hers. She pushed up on her toes, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and letting one hand slide into the hair at the back of his neck. After a long perfect moment he pulled back, and gave her a teasing smile. "But just for the record, we're still none of his damned business."


	17. All Good Things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning, season three spoilers…
> 
> When I officially decided to make this a collection all those months ago, I figured that a good way to end it would be to write a "novelization" of sorts of their actual on-screen first kiss. So I did. And, well, it was a little soul crushing, but here it is anyway. Of course, being me, I had to throw us a tiny life preserver at the end. Thank you so much for all your support and comments on my writing, you're lovely human beings.

They hadn't looked at each other while they were in that room. In fact, she deliberately avoided his eyes the entire time. She wanted to focus on the adorable baby, and the fact that Diggle was ridiculously happy, and not on the man she knew was about to break her heart.

When they were finally forced to walk away, she tried to hold on to that happiness for one second more. "They look really happy. She's beautiful."

"Yes she is." Oliver said, but even as he agreed he was fidgeting with his hands. "We need to talk."

Really? Couldn't he have at least tried to come up with some other phrase? It was so damned cliché, and she'd always felt, that if it was anything, what they shared was at least unique. She fell out of step with him, her body reacting to pull her away from the oncoming disaster.

"I don't want to talk." She said, knowing it sounded stubborn and a little ridiculous, but needing to say it anyway. She saw him sigh, felt his frustration, but kept going, because she felt like he deserved fair warning of exactly how much damage he was about to do. "Which for me, I know, is a little unprecedented. But…as soon as we talk it's over."

Even as she said it, he turned to face her. "I'm so sorry."

She closed her eyes at those words, nodding. They were exactly what she had expected. She'd always thought knowing him so well would be a good thing. But in this case it just meant that she knew exactly how he was going to hurt her; hurt them.

"I thought that I could be me, and The Arrow…" His voice was low, and the look on his face pleading, but his words were measured and steady, and there was no doubt in her mind that this was a speech every bit as planned and rehearsed as the one he'd given the board at Queen Consolidated. "…but I can't. Not now. Maybe not ever."

One word in that last sentence made her angry. She was so tired of this, of being so close to something and never having it. "Then say never. Stop dangling maybes!" The words came out strong, but something inside of her also broke with them, and she felt tears in her eyes. "Say it's never going to work out between us. Say you never loved me."

She was pleading now too, because she needed this to go one way or another. Either he had to stop pushing her away, or he had to let her go. "Say…"

"Felicity," her name was a desperate whisper that barely registered before his hands were on her face, warm and encompassing, his lips pressed to hers.

He just held her there, in that moment, surrounded her with the perfect fit, the perfect promise of what they could be. And she let herself have that promise, one last time, turning with him as he continued the kiss. Out of breath from the weight of all of it, she pulled back a fraction, breathing against his mouth as he refused to pull away. Then finally he eased back, just enough to look her in the eyes. This, she hadn't expected, and she felt so stunned that all she could do was look at him.

He swallowed hard. And then in a sure and steady voice he said, "Don't ask me to say that I don't love you."

She paused, still slightly thrown off balance by his kiss, and for a fraction of a second, gave him a last chance to keep going, to tell her he was wrong. But he didn't take it. She'd been right. She hated that she'd been right. "I told you as soon as we talked…" she reached up and pulled his hands away from her face, "…it would be over."

Then, in what was one of the most difficult things she'd ever done, she turned, wiped a tear from her face and walked away from Oliver Queen.

As she headed out the doors of the hospital, she pressed a hand against her stomach. Tears came harder now, and she realized how truly angry she was…not with him, but with herself. Because, even now, a small insidious part of her heart grabbed onto what he had said, and she knew that no matter how far she walked, how hard she ran, the knowledge that Oliver Queen loved her was never, ever, going to let her go.


	18. Not Saying Goodbye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little "novelization" of sorts from 3x20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how can a kiss collection ignore that episode? Plus, the title was just too dang perfect in its double meaning. I'm toying with expanding this collection as a whole to just being about "kisses" and doing some sorta spec fic, future fic, or AU stuff.

Thea had been hard – especially when he realized she recognized him, wanted him with her. But he had brought her back, given his beloved little sister the only thing he had left to give. She was the reason he was doing this

John had been slightly easier. John had a family, a wife and daughter, and Oliver could even, almost, convince himself that his friend would be better off if he didn't have to spend his time playing wingman and babysitter to a stubborn vigilante.

But this –

He closed his eyes, his breath leaving him in rush. He couldn't do this – had to do this. Couldn't…couldn't…he took two dogged steps toward Felicity. Dread weighed down his every movement. Then he realized that his exhaustion was also probably due to the fact that this woman, the love of his life, had just poisoned the hell out of him. The ridiculous perfectness of that gesture strengthened him enough to look at her, and he found her in tears.

"I am afraid I'll never forgive myself for leaving you here," her voice shook in the vast space around them.

That was the other thing that gave him strength – this was his last chance, his only chance, to be there for her, to comfort her, and to tell her the things she deserved to hear. At least once, damn it, he wasn't going to let his pain get in the way of loving her. He did his best to smile, allowing himself to get a little closer.

He was proud of himself that his voice was steady as he said, "You told me once that life is precious, and that you wanted more from it than I could offer you. Don't give up on that."

Her grip was tight on his arm; the gesture at once familiar and new. Looking down at her, willing her to believe his words, he saw her lip tremble as she fought for composure, and he had to look away.

"The only way that I'm going to survive this is if I know that you're out there, living your life, happy." He put extra emphasis on that last word, and sent out a prayer to anything that could hear that somehow, someway, it would be true.

"We're always saying goodbye to each other" she said, with a little sob. "You'd think I'd be good at it by now."

Even in this she was funny, adorable – perfect. And just as it had since the first day in her office, it brought a smile to his face, unplanned, unstoppable, and shredding him apart. He was coming undone, and he physically squirmed against the power of the combined pain and joy. But he couldn't come apart, if he came apart she wouldn't leave him, and she had to leave him. This darkness should not claim another millisecond of her time. So he took a breath, steeled himself, and forced himself to stay, right there, in this one last moment with her.

"Well let's not say goodbye this time." His voice was finally what it should be for a man talking to the woman he loves, warm and charmed. But even as he kissed her, touched her, he didn't let himself hold on. By the time the kissed was finished, as she came toward him for one more brief press of their lips, he was turning himself to stone.

She stepped away. Walked away.

Without thinking he turned, watched her. He sucked in a breath to keep from saying her name. It broke him just for a moment that she didn't look back. Stone, he remembered, turn yourself to stone.

Hours later when Ra's al Ghul pronounced Oliver Queen dead, it did not faze him. Only a dead man would have let his Felicity walk away.


	19. What's the Occasion?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of immediate post-season three fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'd never written something like this in the "first kisses" part of this collection...but now I'm glad I didn't because the minute season three ended tonight this popped in my head and demanded to be written

It was some diner on 101. Their third day out.

"This isn't good enough," Felicity said, as he pulled the car off the highway and into the parking lot.

Oliver laughed. "Since when? Aren't you the one who claimed she could eat fish and chips every day for a year?"

She held up her hand. "In all fairness, those were extremely good fish and chips and we were eating them on an actual beach, but I think tonight we need something better."

"Why?" he asked again, truly puzzled.

For the first time since they'd driven away from her townhouse a hint of sadness crossed her features. She was busy fiddling with her phone, "I've got it. Two miles down, left at the stoplight."

"Felicity, why…"

"Just go," she ordered.

Shaking his head, he smiled again, realizing that he'd done it so much his face hurt. He pulled the car out on the highway and drove farther into the small town. He made the turn where she ordered and spotted it three blocks down, a surprisingly nice looking little Italian restaurant.

"Italian, huh?" he said letting out a long breath. "We're not tempting fate with that?"

She put her hand on his arm. "I'm willing to risk it."

It was still early so there were only a couple of cars in the restaurant's lot.

"I need my bag from the back," Felicity said, as they stepped out of the car. "I want to glam up a little."

Still wondering what her sudden insistence on "something better" was about he hit the button on the keys that popped the trunk and stepped close to her. When she looked up he put a hand on her face, "You are always beautiful, no matter what. You know that right?"

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, then opened them and gave a beaming smile. "Still not dreaming, huh?"

He shook his head, giving himself a long moment just to stare at her. "Not unless we both are."

She leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Come on," she said. "You get us a table, I'll be right there."

The hostess seemed delighted to have customers, it was still the off season, Oliver guessed, and she pointed him toward a table along the front windows, where, if he looked out, he could see the ocean between two buildings. He'd read the menu over twice and fiddled one edge of the bandage on his hand to raw threads before she appeared again.

It was worth the wait. She was still wearing the same jeans, but her jacket and t-shirt had been replaced with a sparkly top that bared her arms, and she wore a dark red lipstick that just made him want to kiss it off her. Standing as she approached he said, "Wow."

She let out a laugh. "Thanks."

"What's the occasion?" he said.

Shaking her head she put a hand on his arm. "I can't believe you still haven't figured it out yet."

He frowned and pulled out her chair. "I have been a little busy, you know."

"True," she admitted.

They ordered and the food was amazing, and just sitting with her was even better. They fought over the last breadstick, and right after he let her win he said, "This was a good idea. I think this is the best dinner I've had in a very long time."

"Good, you deserve it. Especially today," she said.

He was just about to ask her – again, what was so special about today when she nodded at something over his shoulder. Turning he watched the waiter coming toward them with a lit candle stuck in what looked like a piece of cheesecake. The realization struck him so hard that he felt moisture in his eyes. "It's my birthday," he whispered. He couldn't remember the last time he'd celebrated his birthday, and he certainly couldn't remember ever doing it in a way that actually mattered to him.

"Yes, it is," Felicity said softly.

He laughed a little and scrubbed a hand across his eyes as the waiter set down the cheesecake and retreated.

"Make a wish," she said, leaning forward to wrap warm fingers around his wrist.

The wish was more of a fleeting image than concrete words, and for once, surprisingly enough he thought it might actually come true. He extinguished the candle with a quick puff of air.

She clapped and giggled and picked up her fork. "Now, it might be your birthday, but you still have to share."

"I'm good with that," he said, grabbing his own fork to take a bite of the cake. When was the last time he'd even eaten dessert? He couldn't remember – a milkshake at Big Belly Burger maybe, with Diggle. He let out a sigh, wishing that relationship was one more thing he could have fixed before leaving.

"No," she said sternly.

He gave her a questioning look.

"Whatever that thought was you just unthink it, mister. No broodiness allowed," she said, pinning him with a look that let him know that all joking aside, she meant every word.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, taking another bite of cake.

As they paid the check and headed back to the car, Felicity took his hand and sighed. "I just wish I had a present for you."

He scooped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "I can think of something I want," he said.

"Oh yeah?" she questioned, eyebrows arching, smile so bright it warmed every inch of his soul.

"Kiss me," he said.

She pushed onto her toes and planted her mouth on his. He wondered if he'd ever get used to the joy and heat that flooded through him whenever they touched. He hoped not.

When she pulled back, she wrapped her arms around him, laying her head on his chest. "Happy Birthday, Oliver."

Wish granted.


	20. New Suit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their first kiss in Oliver's new Green Arrow attire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really like the new suit, mostly for managing to be both original and rooted in the comics, and well, this scene wouldn't leave me alone. So while I should be writing the flash fic I'm behind on – this is what we get instead.

"So explain to me, again, why it doesn't have sleeves?" Oliver said, as Cisco rattled off the various features of his new Star Labs created suit.

He watched Cisco exchange a glance with Felicity, who sat on the other side of the lab watching the two of them. She flushed slightly and stared at the floor.

"Um..." Cisco hesitated. "Better range of motion?"

"Uh-huh," Oliver replied, looking at his girlfriend and suppressing a grin.

"Like I said," Cisco went on quickly. "The armor might be a little heavier than the regular leather, but I think it's totally worth it. After all, you don't heal like Barry."

Oliver rolled his eyes and glared at the younger man, who flinched slightly and held up his hands. "No, offense," he said. "We can't all have superpowers."

Felicity gave her ponytail a little flip and in an adorably cocky little voice said. "I've never needed them."

Oliver's eyes locked with hers. Some of the anxiety he felt about being back in a hood melted away when he saw the expression on her face. She looked happy and proud and like she wanted to…

Cisco cleared his throat. "Right, so I just remembered that I need to…" his voice trailed off and then he finished quickly, "… be somewhere else." Oliver watched as he left the lab heading out into the hallway.

Felicity stood from the stool she was sitting on and slowly circled around Oliver. Her eyes trailed over him as her heels tapped out a steady rhythm on the tiled floor.

He turned his head toward her and raised an eyebrow. "Enjoying the show?"

She gave him a wide-eyed look and in a voice full of feigned innocence said. "I don't know what you're talking about. I'm just fully appraising the features of your new suit."

"I'll bet," he said, grinning and stepping toward her. "And?"

She reached out as he approached her, running her fingers carefully over each section of the suit on his chest, and then down his stomach. He couldn't feel it of course – that was the whole point of body armor, but it was certainly fun to watch.

"It certainly looks good, and I like that you'll be safer," she said, but there was a wistful tone in her voice that surprised him.

"But?" he added, bringing his hands to her waist.

She gave a little shrug. "You'll be harder to hug in this." She observed.

Shaking his head he chuckled. "Somehow I think we'll manage."

Her hands moved away from his stomach tracing up over the gauntlets on his lower arm, and skimming over the skin of his upper arm, curling just where the shoulder armor was attached around his biceps. Sucking in a deep breath he looked down to see that a flirty smile had returned to her face.

"I do like this though," she said brushing her thumbs along the spots where the leather straps met bare skin.

Feeling a sudden surge of confidence that had absolutely nothing to do with wearing state-of-the-art battle gear, he pulled her closer to him. She was right, it was harder to hug in this thing, but he loved the little sigh of pleasure she gave.

"So," he said. "Better range of motion, huh?"

Putting a mock serious look on her face she nodded. "You are an archer after all."

"And whose idea was that?" he pressed.

She shrugged, "I might have made a few suggestions."

"I see," he said. "Well, should we see how well I can kiss in it?"

One side of her mouth quirked up and her eyes sparkled with delight. "I think that's a very important test."

He lowered his mouth to hers, his gloved hands sliding slightly on the silk of her blouse as he pulled her up tight against his body. For a long minute he let himself get lost in the taste of her, something that was still very, very easy to do. They heard someone approaching and Felicity pulled back, tucking her face inside the space of his new hood to trail a set of kisses along his jaw before stepping away.

They turned to see Caitlyn looking slightly embarrassed. "Sorry guys, but I need to check on a sample I have running. How's the new suit?"

Without thinking Oliver raised a hand and wiped it across his lips. His new glove came away with a very distinct smear of dark pink. He had a feeling he was going to be cleaning lipstick off of body armor for the rest of the foreseeable future. Grinning he raised an eyebrow at Felicity, "I don't know what do you think?"

"It works," Felicity said each word very clearly. "It definitely works."


End file.
